


Numb

by VividlyLost



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Also some fluff, Baking, Car Accident, Connor/reader - Freeform, Death, Depression, Deviant Connor, Found Family, HA you think i can't work a slow burn into an established relationship??, Hank Anderson - Freeform, Healing, Markus - Freeform, Markus needs a break, Mind Invasion, North, Other people as needed, Personal Growth, Post pacifist revolution, Reader becomes an android, Rk800/reader - Freeform, Second Chances, Shits gonna get real y'all, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Supportive Connor, This is what happens when i have no self control, Violation, angst so much angst, but what do you mean slow burn viv aren't they already together, do androids dream?, forced interface, interfacing, learning how to accept yourself, loss of self, markus/simon - Freeform, non-con interfacing, north gets a redemption arc? wAHTT?, simon - Freeform, this things becoming very slice of lifey and im ok with that, trigger warning rape mentions, what makes you you?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-05-27 06:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 53,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15019199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VividlyLost/pseuds/VividlyLost
Summary: You and Connor have been dating for quite a few months now, and things couldn't be going better.  Sure life for androids is still a work in progress, but it's the best its ever been and getting better everyday.   Then came a day when you were supposed to meet Connor for a date the two of you had been planning for when he finally had a day off of work.  You were so excited to see him. You didn't even see the car coming.What does being human mean?  What does your existence mean?  What does it mean to be alive?  When you wake up in the body of an android, a last bid to save your life, you won't have much of a choice but to find out what it means to be you.





	1. Flatline

**Author's Note:**

> Just a long standing shout out to my friend, my beta reader, and the person with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown with [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He thought he couldn't possibly feel anymore pain.
> 
> "Connor, I'm sorry.” He was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One conversation that had one simple question "what if Connor is dating a human, and they get into an accident or attacked, and he transfers their consciousness into the body of an android"
> 
> It took seconds for me to start thinking of how this could go, and because I myself was in a horrible accident (what did you think i completely made up readers accident and reactions? I only made hers worse) it was no big leap for me to begin empathizing with the characters.
> 
> This fic is gonna get worse before it gets better, emotionally i mean. But hang in there, you might just enjoy the ride! And hey, feel free to leave comments, i love hearing your opinions!

It was so stupid. You looked, both ways.  You had checked, the walk even said it was safe to go and your eyes had focussed on him with excitement as you jogged across the street.  You watched, as if time had slowed down and sped up at the same time as complete and utter fear crossed his face, as he called your name, as you looked to your right to see the vehicle that wasn't stopping.

 

"Oh god no."

 

And then nothing.

 

Could an android's heart break?  Was it even possible for an android to feel sick from fear?

 

Up until this moment Connor would have said no, but now he felt like he was shattering.  He wasn't fast enough, he should have been there, he should have just gone to you instead.

 

Thoughts and regret and pain filled his mind faster than his processors could keep up with.  He barely registered the fact that he was calling the EMTs, too busy smoothing your hair back from your face and running analysis after analysis on your state.  You were unconscious, you had multiple broken bones, your back was torn up from the road as was half of your face, you were barely breathing and blood was quickly matting your hair to your head, obscuring any potential injuries there.

 

There was so much blood.

 

"Please, please stay with me."  Oh. He was talking. He hadn't realized, hadn't realized he was crying, hadn't realized he was shaking.  He did realize he was blaming himself, not that he could stop that, ever since deviating irrationality came much easier.

 

The EMTs arrived just as you started to wake up, and that nearly made him shut down, because the second you began to surface you were screaming.  Connor couldn't even say anything, his throat felt like someone had their fist around it, the closest he had ever felt to suffocating even without needing to breathe. It wasn't until the EMTs were taking you from him to load into the ambulance that sense returned to him and he rushed to make it into the back to stay with you.

 

You screamed, cried, begged, barely aware of anything but the pain and he was too afraid to even hold your hand.  Finally, minutes from the hospital you stopped screaming, the pain medication they had pumped into you finally numbing your nervous system.  Connor watched as your eyes darted around, seeing nothing, barely conscious and unwilling to fall asleep and after a moment, a long, long moment when you were able to manage speech your panicked voice called his name.

 

"I'm here, please, I'm right here, it's ok," he whispered, praying he was right.

 

He thought he couldn't possibly feel anymore pain.

 

"Connor, I'm sorry.” He was wrong. You were crying harder, trying to apologize, unable to look at him with your head held in place though your fingers curled and uncurled as if searching for his.  "I'm so sorry, I didn't see it, I didn't pay attention." You were shaking from the tears and he could see you flinching as the movements caused you pain even the medication couldn't stop. He put his hand in yours gently.  If an android could look paler, if the blood could drain from their face like that of a human's, Connor wouldn't have been surprised if he looked like a ghost.

 

He whispered to you, trying so hard to keep his voice level, trying to calm you down.  He wasn't upset with you. It wasn't your fault. Yet here you were, apologizing to him as if it were.

 

If he wasn't already a deviant, in this moment he would have become one.

  
  


He wasn’t allowed to see you once they had you in the ICU, he had no idea what was going on or what condition you were in.  So he called Hank.

 

He was pacing outside in the hallway, waiting for Hank to answer his phone and knowing full well he was probably still asleep.

 

“What the fuck do you want? It’s fuckall in the morning Conno-”

 

“Hank, I need you,” Connor said, cutting Hank off, voice shaky and tight.  Hank immediately fell silent.

 

“Sir, you need to calm down.” Connor’s eyes cut to the android nurse who was eyeing his LED sensor with alarm.  He knew he was in a state, but he didn’t realize his sensor was a solid red. A quick diagnostic told him what he had been ignoring since the accident, his stress levels were dangerously high and had been the moment he saw the vehicle approaching.

 

“I need to know if she’s ok, I need to know if she will be ok,” he said to the nurse, trying to explain his state and he heard Hank swear.

 

“Connor, where are you?”  Hank asked and Connor turned his attention away from the nurse, her expression was sympathetic, but he didn’t want sympathy he wanted answers.

 

“The hospital, there was a - there was - she was - she -”  He was having trouble explaining what happened, having trouble getting the words out, the memory still fresh blaring across his interface.  Over, and over again. Everytime the sound of the crash echoed in his mind he flinched.

 

“Connor!  CONNOR!” Hank was trying to get his attention.

 

“I’m here, Hank,” Connor said, taking a deep breath that he technically didn’t need, and yet he did.

 

“Son, listen to me, I’m on my way just keep calm until I get there,” Hank said, the sound of a door closing behind him.  “It will be ok.”

 

Connor wanted to believe him.  

  
  


The moment Hank arrived, concern written on his face as plain as day, the sensor on Connor’s temple turned yellow.  Hank would know what to do, how to handle this, but why didn’t he? He was the most advanced model of his kind and yet he had no idea what to do.  Sure the plethora of articles and forums he frantically searched through in his wait for Hank had suggestions and stories and facts, but he still didn’t know what to do.  Irrational, that’s what he was being.

 

Hank took one look at Connor, at the blood dried into his clothes, on his hands, the mess of his hair and the wild frantic look in his eyes and felt his stomach drop.  He had never looked so human. He had never looked so devastated. There was a look of distant hope, of pleading in Connor’s eyes that sent a shot of fear through Hank’s gut.

 

Slowly he got Connor to tell him what happened. The problem with asking an android to recall an incident is that it is so easy for them to see it again, to relive it, and as Connor spoke the spinning yellow light of his sensor turned red again.  That icy fear inside Hank grew. Not you too.

  
  


Finally a couple of nurses and the doctor walked out of your room.  They barely closed the door before Connor was in front of them, asking what was going on.  It took Hank spitting curses at them, declaring him and Connor as your family before anything was divulged, and what they said was bad.  You had lost a lot of blood, there was trauma to your head and at the very least you had a concussion, but the doctor was going to run a CT scan to check for any internal damage.  Broken ribs, shoulder, leg, the list went on for a moment causing Connor’s sensor to flicker erratically from yellow to red until Hank got the doctor to cut to the chase.

 

“Will she be alright.”  It was barely a question, more of a demand for information.

 

“She needs surgery, once we learn what all has happened she will be taken to an OR.  We won’t know the full extent of the damage until the scan, I’m sorry,” the doctor said, and then walked quickly down to the nurses station.

 

Connor wanted to yell after him that that wasn’t good enough, but he knew they were doing what they could, it just wasn’t enough.

 

“Shit.”  Was all Hank said, taking a shuddering breath before he led Connor back to the chairs outside the room.  

 

“I want to see her,” Connor said, voice tight.  Something didn’t feel right, was this paranoia? 

 

“I know,” Hank said, sighing.  He looked so tired, and a quick scan told Connor that his heart rate was elevated.  Hank was panicking, he just wasn’t showing it. 

 

Then the sound no one wants to hear rang through the hallway.  The sound that sent Connor’s stress levels to a point near self destruction.

 

The sound of a failing heart.

 

Your failing heart.

 

The sound of a flat line.


	2. Selfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What did you do?”
> 
> “What I had to, Hank,” Connor said, avoiding Hank’s eyes. Hank grabbed Connor’s shoulders and forced him to look at him.
> 
> “What. Did. You. Do?!”
> 
> “I saved her life!” Connor spat out, and Hank took a step back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, I am really glad you guys like this so far! It's definitely shaping up to be an interesting concept to work with and you will see what I mean soon enough. Let me know what you guys think! I'm really curious how you would react if put in this kind of situation.

He was in the room before Hank could stop him, not that Hank would have bothered, he was too busy yelling at the doctor to “get your fucking ass in there and do something!”  The doctor pushed Connor out of the way and the nurse android who had asked Connor to calm down earlier ran into the room, the skin of her hands fading away and her hands rubbing together like the paddles of a defibrillator.  

 

Time seemed to stop.  Three tries, it took three tries before the nurse was able to restart your heart.  Three times that had Connor’s systems threatening to shut down and the breath of relief he released when he saw your heart beating again, heard the weak, but steady beep of the machine had him clutching at his thirium pump.  And then you were gone, wheeled out immediately to the nearest OR and a call going out across the hospital for the first available surgeon.

 

A simple scan as they took you away showed your survival rate had dropped significantly after your heart had stopped.  

 

He couldn’t lose you.  He would do anything.

 

“Connor?”  Hank called after the android as he quickly walked off and outside.  Connor didn’t hear him, he had a call to make.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Hello Connor, to what do I owe this pleasure?”  Elijah's voice was as frustratingly cocky as it always was.

 

“Is it possible to transfer a human mind to the body of an android?”  Connor asked, not even sparing time for pleasantries.

 

“Beg pardon?”  Elijah chuckled and Connor’s jaw clenched.

 

“Is it possible to transfer a human mind to the body of an android?” he asked again, slower.

 

“Nothing like that has ever been done before, let alone attempted,” Elijah said, humoring Connor’s inquiry, but the slight pause in his statement made Connor think he was hiding something.

 

“Please, I need your help, and you know I would not ask if I had no other choice.”  Oh it felt like someone was pulling his wires out one by one just admitting this, but he didn’t have a choice.  Right? This was selfishness, pure selfishness. He couldn’t lose you, so he wouldn’t. If there was a way to save you, to keep you alive and in his life, why should he ignore that.  In all honesty, he would never have thought of this if you hadn’t brought it up recently one night while the two of you laid in bed, talking about different concepts of humanity.

 

_ “Do you think it’s possible for a human to become an android?” you asked, staring up at the ceiling before turning your head on your pillow to look at him. _

 

_ “I don’t know, it seems like an odd thing to ask though,” he said, and you had smiled at the confusion that drew his brows together and made him purse his lips. _

 

_ “Not really, it’s a common idea in a lot of human science fiction, especially since the creation of androids.  Preserving a human consciousness in some form, either in a virtual realm or in a new body,” you said. _

 

_ “It appears you are correct, a quick search pulled up many articles of books and films, even games on this topic, and yet there are no scientific journals on the topic,” Connor was both impressed and confused. _

 

_ “If it were possible, humanity might abuse that.  Using it as a form of immortality perhaps. Do you think they would be treated any different than androids created by humans?  Would there even be a difference now that your species is free?” Connor was silent as you talked, he liked listening as you tried to work things out so he watched your face with warm eyes.  “But what if the process left you open for tampering, what if someone changed parts about you in the process?” Ok, now he wasn’t liking where this was going, not that you were stopping even with your slowly elevating heart rate.  “What if you weren’t you anymore? And if you did come out of it fine, and the same, then what about touch. Sure there would be a lot of things that could be better, not getting sick, parts that could be replaced easier, less likely to fall apart from disease and age in the way that mortals can….”  you trailed off, and looking at your face, all the minute details he had grown so fond of and learned so well to read told him your mood was falling. _

 

_ “But?”  he prompted, wanting to know what was bothering you. _

 

_ “I don’t know if I would like it….not being able to feel the same,” you took his hand and placed it on your cheek, eyes a little glassy.  “Touch wouldn’t be the same, the sensation inside when my heart races and my stomach flips over when I think about how much I…….” you changed topics though a small smirk was pulling across Connor’s lips; your heart had started racing at that, your cheeks turning red, he wondered what you were going to say.  _

 

_ “Sensations, taste...god what about food?  Or sleep? Dreams? Of all the things that I hate about my body, the ways it fails and struggles to work right...but there wouldn’t be anymore growth either.”  Connor was frowning now, seeing your mind work and run itself deeper. “That feeling of accomplishment when you train yourself to do something new, when you work to become healthier, hell couldn’t even get drunk again…” you rambled like that for a while before Connor managed to stop you, kissing your nose to pull your attention away from your line of thought. _

__

_ He felt like his chest was aching, though his diagnostic told him there was nothing wrong.  There had been many, many times when he had wished there were things he could do, feel, experience like you, like any human, but he was resigned to not ever having those experiences.  It wasn’t like he was missing something he never had, but losing something that made you utterly human?  _

 

_ Your imagination was sometimes your worst enemy, you often said, and he could see why.  A conversation that had started out with your eyes bright with curiosity and ended with you teetering on the edge of your depression.  You were so utterly human, he wouldn’t change you for the world, and he told you that, all the while coaxing a smile back onto you face. _

 

Connor pushed the memory away, guilt washing through him.  

 

“I see,” Elijah said, thinking through what Connor had told him, your condition.  “Are you sure about this Connor? She could very well despise you after this.” He didn’t sound at all like that idea upset him, the same tone of voice he had when he handed Connor the gun and pointed it at Chloe.

 

“So it is possible,” Connor said.  If you hated him, at least you would be alive.

 

“Tell me Connor, you love her don’t you, are you willing to lose her to keep her alive?  Are you willing to make this choice for her, knowing she might not be the same?” Connor’s sensor turned red at Elijah’s words and his thirium pump slowed for a beat, as if it was unsure what it should do given the condition of Connor’s mental state.  

 

“Yes,” he said, and it was the clearest, most determined thing he had said since this whole thing began.

 

“Very well, I’ll see you in a couple of hours, do keep yourself from self destructing.”

 

Then he was gone, the call ended and Connor felt like the lowest creature on the planet.  The look of regret and deadpan determination on his face when he walked back into the hospital to Hank caught the older man’s attention immediately.

 

“What did you do?”

 

“What I had to, Hank,” Connor said, avoiding Hank’s eyes.  Hank grabbed Connor’s shoulders and forced him to look at him.

 

“What. Did. You. Do?!”

 

“I saved her life!” Connor spat out, and Hank took a step back.  “I hope.” Connor whispered, his face falling. Hank took one look at Connor’s face, the tears that were already spilling over it, the pain he was trying so hard to hide.  

 

“God dammit, Connor,” Hank mumbled, pulling the younger man into a hug, trying his best to comfort him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com)
> 
> And a long standing shout out to my friend, my beta reader, and the person with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda)
> 
>  


	3. Operational

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was a dream. Oh thank god, it was just a dream, it wasn't rea-
> 
>  
> 
> “She's awake!”
> 
>  
> 
> Why couldn't it have been a dream?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh snap, shits kicking off now! But hey, i love hearing your thoughts on this, its such an interesting idea to me. How would you handle waking up an android with no warning?

The phrase “seeing your life pass before your eyes" wasn't entirely wrong.  The instant the car hit you the events of the day passed by, as if in a dream, one of those dreams you have just before waking up of all the things you knew you had to do that day.  In those moments before you surfaced enough to realize you were screaming you were certain you were going to wake up in bed, ready to begin the day.

 

Instead you woke up to the EMTs standing over you, momentarily confused as to why they were there before the pain registered.  You had no memory of being hit, so no one could blame you for asking, screaming for answers, “WHY DOES EVERYTHING HURT?! IT HURTS SO MUCH. WHY DOES IT HURT?”  

 

There was so much pain your body and voice were reacting to it without your control.  It was odd, your mind was trying to shut down and you wouldn't let it so you felt the pain as if through a fog, unable to fully comprehend what had happened to your body except that it was bad.  So very, very bad. 

 

Then you were in the ambulance, you thought, it would have made sense and you think they were giving you some kind of shot, that also would have made sense.  You just didn't know. Your mind wasn't really there, fading in and out, trying to remember...Connor!

 

You hoped he was ok, where was he?  Panic on top of pain, on top of shock, on top of drugs had you in a state, but you couldn't look around.  Not like you could see anyway, your eyes were open, but you saw nothing. Or were they? Your body wanted to shut down, it didn't understand why you wouldn't let it so it did what it could to protect you. Slowly, or was it quickly, the pain faded, just enough that you realized you weren't screaming anymore. No, those sounds were moans of pain, shuddering sobs laced with fear and trauma.  

 

“Wher - what - Connor?” The words came out jumbled with the rest of your sounds.  Was he ok? Where - oh, there he is. You couldn't see him, and you could barely feel him, but it was enough.  Enough to make you cry harder. This was your fault. Look twice, always be careful. 

 

You think you apologized out loud, but then again you aren't really sure of anything.  Did he respond? Yes, you swore you heard him. You wanted to hear him again, hear him reassure you he was there and you were going to be ok.  

 

Consciousness escaped you.  

 

And then it was dark.  

 

There was nothing.

 

No noise, no light, no thoughts, a dreamless sleep that went on, and on, and on, and on until...you opened your eyes.

 

The last thing you remembered was Connor telling you what happened wasn't your fault.  Yet when you opened your eyes, barely seeing, you realized there was no pain. 

 

No pain at all.

 

You rubbed your eyes, clearing them, feeling a little odd as if you were still a little asleep.  

 

It was a dream.  Oh thank god, it was just a dream, it wasn't rea-

 

“She's awake!” 

 

Why couldn't it have been a dream?

  
  


Connor had watched the process in its entirety, ever vigilant that you would come to no more harm than you had already, and yet he still didn’t quite understand it all.  Sure he could write down what he had seen to the smallest detail, but what was actually happening? No, that was something he couldn’t quite wrap his mind around.

 

He hadn’t expected Elijah to arrive in person, though he did one hundred percent believe Elijah would be true to his word, he always was, but this was a surprise.  Following the father of android life was Chloe, and a few other people that, after a quick scan, Connor realized to be part of Elijah’s personal research division. They commandeered a room, the doctors quickly complying after a few terse words with the new arrivals.  You, on the other hand, were still not out of surgery. It had been hours and they were still working. While Elijah was preparing for what was quite possibly an experimental process, Hank managed to flag down a nurse to check on your condition, for which Connor was grateful.  He still harbored some small hope that you would come out of this without needing the transfer.

 

When the nurse returned, her face carefully arranged in a gentle expression, she informed the two men that you were hanging on.  Then her face fell a little, her careful mask slipping, but you were barely hanging on.

 

She didn't have to say it out loud, but even Connor could read between those lines.  You were dying. 

 

Hank had been none too pleased to see Elijah arrive.  “Insufferable prick, what’s he doin here?” He had asked Connor, but now that your one hope at surviving was fading fast he told Hank what they were going to try to do and immediately found himself yanked up by the front of his shirt.

 

“What the  _ fuck _ are you thinking?”  Hank’s voice came quieter than his normal outbursts , but it rang in Connor’s head like he had bellowed it through a megaphone.  Connor opened his mouth and closed it, not fighting back, not moving, it was easier to rely on his old programming of endurance than anything else right now.  Hank let him go and Connor fell back into his seat. “God dammit Connor, what if-”   
  
“I know, Hank,” Connor said, knowing exactly what he was going to say.  “I’ve prepared for that.”   
  
“No you haven’t,” Hank said. He looked at Connor with a pained expression and Connor bowed his head.

 

“No.  I haven’t.”

  
  


You stared up at the ceiling, counting out your limbs, your fingers, cataloguing your state to see if there was any pain.  There wasn’t any, but everything felt a little strange and you figured you must be on some helluva pain killer for the pain to be suppressed this much.  You licked your lips, expecting them to be dry, expecting your mouth to be dry, but they weren’t, and….you licked your lips again; something was off. 

 

“All systems are operational, sir,”  someone said and your eyebrows drew together in confusion.  Carefully you turned your head. Ok, the restraint was gone.  You lifted your head and looked around the room seeing a group of men and women you didn’t know and then you looked down at your body.

 

Quickly you pushed yourself up.  Where were the casts? The IV drips?  The blood, the injuries, it was all gone.  You looked like nothing had happened at all, and nothing hurt.  It wasn’t that you were on some strong as fuck medication, there just wasn’t any pain. 

 

“What?”   
  
“Hello there ____, how are you feeling?”  This was a different voice, it looked like a nurse.

 

“Fine...I feel…..what’s going on.  Why am I here? I - there was - the car and pain, what is going on?!”  You were beginning to panic, but something was off with that too. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, sort of, no that wasn’t what that was.  You expected to feel your stomach churn, yet all you could feel was this odd sensation of something missing. On top of all that you had this feeling that if you didn’t calm down, you were going to cause yourself harm.  Clearly, that’s what panic attacks did so why was it weird to have this foreboding feeling? Maybe something was broken, maybe you were on something, maybe -

 

**Diagnostic complete, all systems fully operational.**

 

You froze.

 

“Miss, please calm down, take a deep breath,” the nurse supplied gently, trying to pull your attention back to her, and sure you would have liked to take a deep breath, but your chest was already heaving like you were out of breath.  Except, you didn’t feel light headed from the hyperventilation and there was no sensation of your lungs expanding. “We need to examine you to ensure you are alright and explain what has happened, please.” 

 

You looked around the room again, eyes coming to rest on a covered gurney, the sheet on top bloody and sitting around a form whose sight made you want to throw up.  There was that feeling that something was missing again.

 

It couldn’t be.

 

They didn’t.

 

You weren’t.

 

It was impossible.

 

Dear gods please, no, please.

 

You lurched past the nurse, throwing yourself from the hospital bed and pushing past the occupants in the room.  The cold tile beneath your feet felt the same...sort of...but you barely registered it as you neared the body. 

 

Please no.

 

You grabbed the corner of the sheet and swallowed, panic welling up inside you well past the point of no return.

 

Don’t let it be-

 

You ripped the sheet back and heaved, tears streaming down you face.  Now you knew what was wrong, because when you heaved you didn’t feel the roll of your stomach, didn’t feel the rise of bile or gas, you felt nothing. You felt a phantom of a memory of what should have happened.

 

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” You screamed, clutching the sheet in your hands, eyes glued to your broken and lifeless corpse.

 

The door burst open and you turned, your vice like grip on the sheet ripping it all the way off.  It was Connor, and he looked as panicked as you felt.

 

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com)
> 
> And a long standing shout out to my friend, my beta reader, and the person with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda)
> 
>  


	4. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So this is the price of loving an android. You become one yourself,” you said, and in the reflection of the window you saw Connor flinch again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry bout the late post, I've had a week of packing and shoving my stuff into storage followed by relocating my cats for a couple of months and then preparing for a long awaites trip to meet some friends. But! Here we are and im excited for where this story is going!
> 
> I love your comments, you guys have some really interesting questions and ideas!

Connor crossed the room towards you, hands raised slightly in front of him.  You noticed his LED was spinning red before you noticed the pain in his eyes.  That was bad, that was dangerous, he could hurt himself. Your concern for the man you loved warred with the monsoon of emotions inside of you.  You always were an emotionally reactive person though and you stood frozen, watching him approach you slowly as if he was afraid to upset you further, unable to decide if you should give into your emotions or your fear for his well being. 

 

No one else in the room spoke as he reached you.  If he couldn’t calm you down, you could self destruct.  If he didn’t calm down, so could he. The tension in the room made it seem like the air was being sucked out of it as everyone held their breath.  The only person not concerned was Elijah, he stood against a back wall with a look of vague interest. 

 

_ Help Connor calm down. _

 

_ I’m an android. _

 

_ He’s in trouble. _

 

_ I’m no longer human. _

 

_ He’s scared. _

 

_ HE LET THEM TURN ME INTO AN ANDROID! _

 

_ He promised. _

 

_ I’m scared. _

 

“I’m scared,” you said as his arms carefully settled around you, pulling you close.  A choked sob caught in your throat, your body shook.

 

“You died,” Connor whispered and you stopped breathing.  “Your heart stopped for two minutes and twenty eight seconds.”  His voice was low, and his words were very matter of fact, but the way his arms tightened around you, the way his voice nearly cracked on that last word told you more than anything else would have.  “I couldn’t lose you again, not if there was a chance-” he trailed off and pressed his face into the crook of your neck. Your arms hung limply at your sides, one hand still gripping the sheet. You stared at the wall beyond Connor, registering the fact that everyone was clearing out of the room, the tension snapping.

 

Now it was just you and Connor in the room.  You, and Connor, and … you. 

 

Were you supposed to be grateful?  You weren’t dead...does a lifeless body constitute as death if you were technically right there, alive?  You died, could have died, did die? Everything cut short in the blink of an eye and a car that wouldn’t stop.  You had had no idea that you were gone, that you never would have seen Connor again, never would have - 

 

_ I’ve lost everything. _

 

_ I’m alive. _

 

_ Am I even me anymore? _

 

_ I didn’t want this. _

 

_ I didn’t want to die. _

 

_ What price did we pay? _

 

You let go of the sheet, your trembling hands reaching up to clutch at the back of Connor’s shirt.  His arms tightened subtly and you shook harder.

 

“Connor, I’m scared.”  Your legs gave out and you slipped out of Connor’s arms to the floor, your knees hitting the surface with a hard thud, and you felt no pain, just the sensation of the cold tiles and the jarring vibration of the impact.  The most broken sound Connor had ever heard fell from your lips and you broke down. The only thing that kept him from breaking right there was the fact that the sensor at your temple had settled to yellow, despite the sobs wracking your body.  He slid to his knees and pulled you close.

  
  


It took hours before you calmed enough to learn what happened.  Your face was warm, but your nose was clear, your head didn’t ache, and your skin wasn’t splotchy.  There was no sign you had been sobbing at all and it took Connor a moment to get your attention; you were staring at your reflection in the darkened window, searching for any sign of humanity in your face.  All you saw was the sensor, a steady unyielding yellow. 

 

“____….” Connor said softly, walking up behind you to get your attention.  Your eyes lifted and met his before they filcked to his own sensor, as yellow as yours.  You laughed. A sharp laugh that made Connor flinch and that turned into an emotionless fit of laughter.  

 

“So this is the price of loving an android.  You become one yourself,” you said, and in the reflection of the window you saw Connor flinch again.

 

_ That was uncalled for. _

 

_ Apologize. _

 

_ Does this even count as being alive? _

 

_ Hypocrite. _

 

_ It wasn’t his fault. _

 

_ Apologize.  _

 

_ He didn’t do it to hurt you. _

 

Your face betrayed the guilt of your statement, yet no words came out.

 

Connor’s posture slumped for a second before straightening.  You had never told him that you loved him. He had never told you.  Would you still, after what he had done?

 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, and your sensor turned blue, a look of utter defeat taking over your face.  You shrunk in on yourself and somehow, against all logic stating that you weren’t, the only thought Connor had was how small you looked.

  
  
  


You allowed Connor to lead you from the room where your body, your human body, lay broken and lifeless.  Not that you felt like you had much life to you right now. You guessed that answered the question on if androids could go into shock.

 

Outside of this room were the people from before, eyeing you in interest.  You avoided every single one of them, eyes lighting upon Hank who looked as if you were a miracle in the fle- plastic.  He pulled you into a hug quickly.

 

“Kid, I’m so glad you’re ok,” he said, voice betraying how worried he had been, that made you feel worse.

 

_ I should just be grateful. _

 

“I- uh…” You just shook your head, sensor flashing yellow before you pushed the feelings away.  He gave you a pained look, and then turned it to Connor. It was then you noticed how resigned Connor looked.  He was preparing for something, he was preparing for pain.

 

You were informed on what happened, the events leading up from the accident to when you awoke.  The failing of your heart, at which Hank squeezed your shoulder comfortingly, to the rapidly failing attempt at surgery.  They explained how they did it, but none of it really made sense to you. Sleep, you wanted to sleep. Not that you were tired, but it was the only way you could think of of tuning out the world for a little bit when they started explaining your new body.

 

“What, no instruction manual?” you asked dryly, not wanting to listen to them any longer.  You were surprised when they told you that yes, there actually was. 

 

When they finally left you alone, you noticed Connor had walked over to speak with who you now knew was Elijah Kamski.  You patted Hank’s hand on your shoulder absentmindedly before walking over to where the other two men were talking. They broke off talking at your arrival and your deadpan expression flickered into a frown for a brief second.

 

“So what do I owe for this … second chance….?” The words felt bitter in your mouth, but Elijah only smiled.

 

“Nothing, this was merely a favor for a friend,” he said, cooly, and you looked at Connor with surprise, who looked at Elijah with equal surprise.  “Just don’t squander this second chance, not many people get one.” He gave Connor a look of amused curiosity before walking off.

 

You bit your tongue before you said something else you would regret today and instead turned to Connor.

 

“What were you two talking about?” you asked.  He caught your eyes with his own and sighed.

 

“Selfishness,” he said, as if that one word would answer your question.  It did. You looked at him, searching his eyes, staring, and then he looked away.  He never just looked away, you’d seen him face a human who was spitting in rage, who threatened to beat Connor to a pulp and he didn’t even blink.  Now he couldn’t look at you. You felt your heart squeeze, at least that’s what it felt like despite you knowing you no longer had a heart so to speak.

 

For a moment it made you wonder how many “feelings” were in your mind all along and how many were -  Connor sighed pulling your attention back to him.

 

“Connor…” you said quietly, so unsure of what feelings were trying to win out that you were beginning to feel increasingly numb to.  He looked back at you, brow drawn together. “I want to go home.” You rubbed your arms, the hospital gown you were wearing not doing much to ward off the cold.  At least you could still feel the cold you thought absentmindedly. He noticed your discomfort and, when you didn’t protest, pulled you back against him to lend you his warmth.

 

“Alright,” he said, hands rubbing your back soothingly.  

  
  


They were reluctant to let you leave, wanting to monitor you for at least a day to make sure nothing came up.  The longer you argued with them, the longer Hank and Connor argued with them, the more you felt like a specimen instead of a person.  By the time they finally conceded your sensor had turned yellow again, blinking red from time to time, and they only conceded because you had bit out, “They can watch me, how’s that??” and pointed at Connor and Hank.  Now though, you were in a pair of jeans that weren’t yours, and a shirt that felt too stiff, settled into the back of Hank’s old car. 

 

You wanted to go home, your home, and you stated this again and again, but you couldn’t argue with their reasoning.  It would be easier for you to stay with Connor and Hank at their place, and Sumo was there, he always made you smile when you thought you couldn’t.  You also knew the real reason they didn’t want you to go back to your place yet was because they were afraid you would settle back into a panic over all the things that were different now, would always be different.  You knew this, and you hated it. At least they met you in the middle and agreed to let you grab some things from your home to make you more comfortable, like clothes that fit.

 

When you pulled up in front of your apartment you didn’t give Hank a chance to shut off the car, you were already out of the door and running inside.  For a moment Connor sat in the car, unsure of what to do. He could go after you, to make sure you were alright, but you could grow even more upset with him.  Or you might be grateful. Maybe you wanted to be alone. He looked at Hank when he pushed him towards the car door.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?  You can’t leave her in there alone,” Hank said, as if it were obvious. 

 

“Right,” Connor said, leaving to follow you.  When Connor was gone Hank rubbed his face and swore.

  
  


Connor found you inside, holding a shirt up and staring at it, trembling ever so slightly.  You had entered your apartment, seeing everything that was home, and feeling the urge to sit down and never move again, only to force yourself to find what you came for.  There was a slight smell you couldn’t quite place, it was familiar, comforting, but subtle enough you couldn’t really figure out what it was. Not until you picked up the shirt you slept in, discarded on top of the dresser.  It was you. A scent you smelled everyday because it was you, a scent you hadn’t smelled since you woke up in this body. Of course it was familiar. Connor never had a smell though, which meant that now you wouldn’t either. Home would never quite feel like home when the subtle traces you left behind faded away.  

 

Connor watched as you lifted the shirt a little, a look of dawning fear on your face and found him acting before he had even formulated a plan.  Before he could reach you, you spoke.

 

“What makes me me?” you asked quietly, turning to look at him, lifting your hand with the shirt to draw his attention to it.

 

“I don’t understand the question,” he said after a moment.

 

“What else am I but an incomplete copy of what I was?”  You looked down at the shirt, rubbing your thumbs against it.  The fabric felt the same, the movements of your hands was the same, even your skin looked the same, down to the scars and occasional freckle, the shifting of artificial veins under your skin.  

 

“It’s not,” Connor started to say, closing the distance and forcing you to look up at him.  “The way your body is doesn’t make you any less you.”

 

“Are you saying that even if I didn’t look like me, if they hadn’t managed to make this body look like me, that you would still care?  That it wouldn’t bother you?” you asked, incredulously.

 

“Yes,” he said simply.  The fact that Elijah had managed to create a body for you that was a perfect replica of your own had been a surprise to Connor, he hadn’t even considered it an option, too focussed on trying to save you the best way he could.  The conviction in his eyes had you close your mouth against the dry retort you had lined up. The real question, the one you had been avoiding, was if you felt the same. 

 

Without another word you turned back to your dresser and opened the drawers you needed, digging around for your favorite - second favorite clothes.  

 

“Fuck, I really liked that shirt,” you mumbled, feeling Connor’s eyes on you.  “If you’re going to stay please sit down, hovering is not helping.”

 

“I am not hovering, I don’t even think that’s something I can - oh…” He stopped when you gave him a look, like you did so many times before when he completely missed the point of what you were saying.  It soothed him to see such a familiar reaction in you despite everything. He sat down on the edge of your bed and you almost wanted to laugh, you just couldn’t.

 

You grabbed your clothes and went to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind you.  You ripped off the shirt and threw it against the tub, then kicked your way out of the jeans they had given you.  The CyberLife regulation bra and underwear given to each female android were next. Dressed in your own clothing you almost started to feel like you.  As you were unfolding your shirt you caught your eye in the mirror and stopped.  _ “The way your body is doesn’t make you any less you.” _   Now you did laugh.  

 

Oh this was you alright, down to the last freckle and mole, yet this was the most perfect you you had ever seen.  Humans in all their asymmetrical glory, but androids, despite their skin, were perfect. That was why you had stared at yourself so long in the hospital, it just took until now to figure out what was so odd.  Perfectly even eyes, teeth, build. One side just as equal to the other. And your face, in spite of the marks on your skin, was clear. This was the you you always wished you could see in the mirror and now that you did you didn’t know how to feel.  You were going to look like this. Forever.

 

“Oh god,” you whispered as your new reality crashed around you.

 

When you walked out of the bathroom, Connor looked up from where he sat on your bed.  In his hands was your plush, the one that often joined you in bed when he wasn’t there.  He took one look at the dead look on your face and was at your side in an instant. He offered you the plush and you took it from him, running your hand along it before tossing it back onto the bed.

 

“Let’s go,” you said quietly.  It wasn’t until you reached the kitchen that Connor noticed you were carrying your toothbrush, not until he watched you drop it in the trash can.  There was a flash of irritation in your eyes before that dead look returned and you walked out of your apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com)
> 
> And a long standing shout out to my friend, my beta reader, and the person with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda)
> 
>  


	5. Hate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t you understand? It’s easier for me to worry about you than myself, especially right now!” You stopped walking and turned to look him, his eyes were wide with surprise. “Dammit Connor, if I push you away then I’ll have nothing, and I can’t do that!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! First day home after my trip up to Alaska to meet some friends. I was able to get a whole chapter written on that long ass flight which works for both me and you because heeeeere is an update!
> 
> I love seeing your reactions and opinions, it makes me super stoked to get the chapters written and out to you guys. So if you have any questions or just thoughts on this or anything let me know in the comments!

The ride to Hank’s house was silent, even the usual music was turned off adding to the weight you felt pressing down on you.  Neither of them could blame you when you shuffled inside and immediately laid down next to Sumo. The poor dog huffed for a second, you looked like you, and thanks to your clothes you smelled like you, but something was off.  He licked your face. Apparently whatever it was wasn’t enough to bother him. 

 

Connor looked to Hank for some sign of what to do, but the older man only shook his head.  You needed time. 

 

You laid on the floor for a long while, acutely aware of the tension in the house.  Everyone was walking on eggshells. It wasn’t helping. It was too quiet. Sumo pushed your head with his nose and for a moment your lips twitched into a smile.  That must have been some cue because you heard someone settle on the couch and flip the tv on. Such a familiar sound, and it fell somewhere between soothing and irritating.  Soothing in the way that it was such a normal sound, a normal thing, and irritating that the world was still running as if nothing had happened, further proving the fact that this, you, were insignificant in the grand scheme of things.  You were grinding your teeth, trying to keep your face neutral and failing so you turned to hide it in Sumo’s coat. The dog harrumphed, but otherwise was still. 

 

Eventually you turned to stare at the ceiling, your eye catching a glint of something off the base of the tv stand.  It took you a moment to realize it was only your distorted reflection, and what you had seen was the sensor at your temple.  The longer you focussed on it, the more irate you became until you pushed yourself up and stormed to the kitchen.

 

“Hey!  Where are you going!” Hank called after you, half getting off of the couch.  Your only answer was the opening and closing of his kitchen drawers until you found what you were looking for.  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT KNIFE!?” He had gotten up to see what you were after and was now standing in the kitchen looking at you like you were crazy.  At his words though, Connor came rushing in, stopping when he saw you viewing yourself critically in the reflection of the window. 

 

“I want this off of me,” you said, voice clipped and short.  

 

“They said not to -”

 

“I want. This. Off.” you said, cutting Connor off.  You lifted the knife to your temple, tracing the LED sensor with your finger to try to figure out where to stick the blade.  Before you could rest the tip of the knife to your skin you felt it someone grab your wrist and pull your hand away from your head.  You spun on Connor, rage in your eyes.

 

“At least let me help,” he said softly.  One hand was gripping your wrist while the other pried the knife from your fingers.  The anger died like a doused flame and you nodded. His eyes were soft and you relaxed, closing your eyes when his fingers brushed your cheek before moving up to the sensor.  The knife was cool against your skin, and then there was a pinched feeling as he slid the tip under the sensor. You felt a sharp tug that made you wince reflexively as the sensor was pried free and then you shivered.  The feeling of your skin reforming over the now bare endoskeleton was subtle and odd, yet another reminder of what you no longer were. 

 

When you opened your eyes again you saw only your face, no different than when you awoke that morning.  On the surface you looked just as you always had, or near abouts. Your eyes were grateful when they caught Conner’s and a look of relief washed over his face.  Gently he pressed his lips to your temple and you released a shuddering breath. That felt the same, his lips on your skin, though you couldn’t tell if the heightened sensitivity was from your emotional state or your new body.  You didn’t want to dwell on it.

 

“As sickeningly cute as this is, what the hell am I gonna do with that knife now?” Hank asked.  You felt Connor’s lips curl a little against your skin, smiling and for a moment, just a moment you were able to pretend that nothing was different.  Then Connor pulled away.

 

“Don’t worry Hank, I’ll clean it,” he said.  You watched your sensor slide from his fingers into the trash can as he walked to the sink.  No, pretending got you nowhere.

  
  


Hank had long since gone to bed, and yet you were still awake. You had barely spoken since leaving the hospital, and now that the house was quiet your silence was even more pressing.  Connor had tried to speak to you, more than once actually, but you just didn’t have it in you at the moment. You wanted to sleep, but you couldn’t, all you could do was lean against him and hope he knew that your silence wasn’t from spite.  

 

A noise at the door made you jump, and Connor’s arm around your shoulders squeezed you gently.  “It’s just Sumo, I think he wants to go out,” he said quietly. Sure enough the large dog was scratching at the door.  Perhaps this was what you needed. You scooted off of the couch and walked over to Sumo, grabbing his leash from beside the door.  As soon as he saw you grab the leash his tail went into overdrive and he huffed a soft bark at you.

 

“Shhh, hold still.”  You managed to get his leash on and reached for the door knob, pausing to look at Connor.  He hadn’t gotten up, a conflicted look on his face, you caught the yellow of his sensor and sighed.  “Are you coming?” you asked him. 

 

“Yes,” he said, light turning to blue once more.

 

You let Sumo lead you to where he wanted to go, a baggie shoved into your back pocket in case of Sumo bombs.  He sniffed his way down two blocks before Connor finally spoke up.

 

“Are you...I understand if you are upset with me,” he said.  “I know this isn’t what you wanted, that you weren’t given the choice.”  He sounded apprehensive, sad, but he hit the nail on the head. One of them at least.

 

“No, I wasn’t given a choice.  I don’t know what I would have chosen,” you said, bitterly.  Except, you kind of did. It was all you had been thinking about after you had managed to calm down.  You would never have chosen to become an android of your own free will, under any circumstances but one: to save your life.  It had taken a lot for you to come to that conclusion, and it made nothing easier. You thought, perhaps if you had made this choice willingly then the loss wouldn’t be so bad, so jarring.  Perhaps, if you had known there were no other options, you would have been willing to sacrifice every physical thing that made you human, made you you, to give yourself a chance. You would never know though, not really, because you weren’t given that option.  

 

Connor tensed beside you and you felt your throat tighten.  He had only wanted to save you, wouldn’t you have done the same thing in his shoes?  

 

“I’m not upset with you like you think,” you said, tugging Sumo’s leash to direct him back to the sidewalk.  “I understand why you did it, I can’t be mad at you for the results.” 

 

“Yes, you can.”

 

You almost laughed.  “Ok, yes I can, but that doesn’t make it fair to you.”

 

“I wish you wouldn’t worry about me so much, not when you have so much else to deal with,” he said.  Well now, that wasn’t a new argument from him, but given the context it almost sounded like he didn’t even think he was worth your worry.

 

“Don’t you understand?  It’s easier for me to worry about you than myself, especially right now!”  You stopped walking and turned to look him, his eyes were wide with surprise.  “Dammit Connor, if I push you away then I’ll have nothing, and I can’t do that!  I can’t lose you, not now, not when I feel so lost. Not when I feel like I’m just a sham of who I used to be!  It’s not fair for me to rely on you to help prove to me that this life doesn’t have to be any different than before, but I am and I’m sorry.”  Your voice cracked, you had almost started yelling and you felt your face warm, a warning for tears. “It’s not fair that I didn’t get to make this choice, it’s not fair that you decided this for me, but I don’t hate you for it.”  Now you could barely see through the artificial tears filling your eyes, but there was no sting as you were used to, so you looked at him, blinking away the tears as best you could. All logic told you that you should have no problem talking clearly despite the tears, what with this body telling you that everything was working as it should, but your throat felt closed up and your chest hurt, feelings that were so familiar it made the whole thing worse. 

 

“I don’t hate you, I’m angry, I’m scared, I’m confused, but I don’t hate you.  I don’t -” Connor hugged you close, taking Sumo’s leash from you and you hit his chest weakly before pressing your face into his shoulder.  “I don’t hate you.” You mumbled into his shoulder, and he let you, listening to everything you said, every broken thought and repeated phrase, everything you hadn’t said out loud but had screamed inside for hours.  In one day he had experienced loss, heartbreak, selfishness, and guilt. A maelstrom of emotions so strong that he didn’t envy humanity one bit, but the one he didn’t feel, no matter how broken you sounded, was regret.  You said you didn’t hate him, but he knew that if that were to ever change he wouldn’t once regret the choice he made.

 

“It will be ok,” he whispered, when you’d fallen quiet.  A quick glance down told him that Sumo had come to lay beside the two of you.

 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ok,” you mumbled.

 

“That is a very fatalistic outlook,” Connor said, frowning a little.

 

“Guess that didn’t change much did it?” You laughed weakly.  It was a sad sound.

 

“Very little has changed, it’s just hard to see that.”  You grumbled something incoherent and Sumo whined. “What was that?” Connor teased, “I couldn’t quite hear you.”

 

“I said I miss food you stubborn ass!” You pulled back to look at him, a stubborn set to your jaw.  “And sleep. I can’t comfort eat or sleep until this all goes away like I used to.”

 

“If I remember correctly that never worked before anyway,” he said, turning you back the way you had come and started the two of you walking.

 

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it,” you retorted.

 

“I also remember you saying how much you disliked when you -”   
  
“Connor.”

 

“Yes?”

  
“Shut up.”   


“Sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com)
> 
> And a long standing shout out to my friend, my beta reader, and the person with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda)
> 
>  


	6. Focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re afraid you won’t be accepted anymore?” 
> 
> Why couldn’t you just go home?
> 
> “What if people see me, and don’t believe it’s me? That I’m real?” 
> 
> “Do you feel real?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i may not have a consistent posting schedule, but at least i wont post something just for the sake of posting. This story means a lot to me so i want to make sure i deliver the best i can. And im so happy you guys like it so far! Your comments make my day every time!!

It felt like everyone was looking at you, everywhere you went.  The store, the park, the lab for your diagnostic check-ins. It has only been a few weeks since the accident, since the deck of your life got reshuffled.  Somehow, the news of what had happened to you never hit the public, a blessing in and of itself but that didn’t stop you from feeling like everyone knew. 

 

What if someone noticed the new symmetry to your body?  Could you pass that off as surgery? You weren’t sure, but probably not. At least you didn’t have to worry about the biometric scans, since your skin was scanned from your own body you still had your fingerprints.  That was something androids didn’t have, so who would ever suspect? Right? So then why were you so afraid to return to work? 

 

You were constantly being urged to return to work, to re-establish a sense of normalcy.  It was just hard to reconcile the idea of normalcy when you never felt tired, when the food in your home had made its way into Hank’s fridge or the foodbank instead, when moving your couch for the fifth time that day because you didn’t like where it was didn’t make your muscles fatigued.  

 

“Can you tell me what you felt when your mother called you yesterday?”  The woman who had been assigned to you for your mental well being sat across from you.  In the corner of the room sat the technician who made adjustments as you needed them and answered any questions that might have been related to your new body.  You guessed you had no choice but to see them every week, but that didn’t mean you liked it.

 

“Sick,” you said, fingers pulling at your sleeve.  “I felt sick, guilty.”

 

“Why guilty?”  Dr. Leland was a kind woman, and she never pushed you past what you were comfortable with, but sometimes you just didn’t have the answers to her questions.

 

“I don’t know.”   
  
“Do you blame yourself for what happened?”  Dr. Leland asked.

 

“Not as much as I did,” you said with a sigh.

 

“That’s good!  That’s progress.”

 

“I’m afraid she will hate me now,” your voice broke and you wiped at your face quickly, wondering once again what even the point of giving an android the ability to cry was.  Unbidden, the interface in your software appeared before your watery eyes and an article explaining the reasoning behind android tears was displayed. “AAGH! IT’S DOING IT AGAIN!” You said, clutching your head and closing your eyes.

 

“It’s ok, what were you thinking?”  The technician, Carol, leaned forward in her seat.

 

“I was wondering why androids could cry,” you snapped.

 

“That’s alright, just focus on dismissing the interface.  Everything is still settling, your mind doesn’t know what to do with it all,” she said.

 

“Yea no SHIT, ugh, ok fine...”  You took a deep breath, focusing on seeing beyond the interface, imagining it gone, whatever it would take to dismiss it.  After a few seconds it disappeared. When you released the breath Carol nodded and Dr. Leland smiled gently.

 

“You’re afraid you won’t be accepted anymore?”  

 

Why couldn’t you just go home?

 

“What if people see me, and don’t believe it’s me?  That I’m real?” 

 

“Do you feel real?”

 

“I feel like a freak, but….a real freak? I have no way of knowing if anything changed, I wouldn’t know if it did, but…,” you trailed off for a moment.  Dr. Leland remained silent. “Connor tells me everyday that nothing has changed, that I am me. Even Hank told me once that he can’t tell a difference between … before and after.  Well except that I’ve been … well … down.” The doctor nodded.

 

“That’s good, having the support of people close to you, to help you through these thoughts,” she said and shifted in her seat.  “How are things with Connor?”

 

Since the accident things with Connor have been strained.  You needed him, but you were upset. Most days you were either completely apathetic, or you were irritable, snapping at every small thing, sometimes even him.  And fifteen minutes after your anger had turned on him you felt like shit and the sadness the anger had been fending off swallowed you whole. He was patient, and understanding, but you knew when your anger came out that he hurt.  You despised yourself, and you loved him.

 

“It’s not fair that he has to put up with this, with me,” you mumbled, looking at the wall behind your doctor.

 

“Have you talked to him about this?”

 

“Of course I have! And he says the same thing each time, that it’s his choice and he  _ wants  _ to be here, with me.”

 

_ “I want to be here even when it’s the darkest, because I want to help you through it.  Keep you from running into the wall.” _

 

_ “Was….was that supposed to be a ….. Where do you even come up with this stuff?” you asked, voice tight. _ __   
  


_ “And I’m not allowed my own metaphors?” he had teased, kissing your forehead and smoothing your hair back with a soft smile.  “Doesn’t mean that I don’t mean what I said.” _

 

_ “What if this never goes away?” _

 

_ “Well then I guess I just need to find a flashlight, don’t I?”  He said, his smile giving away how proud he was at his response. _

 

_ “You just aren’t going to let that go are you?” _

 

_ “You?  Never.” _

 

You cleared your throat, the memory of the conversation you and Connor had had on this subject earlier this week fading from and with the interface.  

 

“This fear you have, is going to keep you from moving forward.  Until you know what the people closest to you will think you’re going to focus on that.  Is this why you’ve been avoiding going back to work?” Your eyes flitted to the doctor struggling to keep your mind clear enough to keep the interface away.

 

“.....yes…..that and….I’m a baker!  I can’t eat? I can’t even taste things right!”  

 

“You said, am, not was,” Dr. Leland pointed out and you looked away.

 

“Was….am…..I don’t know anymore,” you said.

 

“Did you become a baker because you could eat the thing you made?  I know taste plays a big role in what you do, but what really drove you to this career?”  

 

“I...I wanted to make people’s days a little better, a little more sweet.  Put smiles on their faces, if only for a moment….that’s….eating my goods was a bonus, but-” you said, knowing what point she was trying to make, and feeling worse knowing she was right.  You chewed on your lip, unable to do any damage to it and felt your shoulders slump.

 

“Healing takes time, but it takes longer when you convince yourself that you can’t do the things you love until you’re already healed.  Have you given any more thought to the self help meditation videos I sent you?” she asked. You felt a pit in the area your stomach would’ve been.  No...you hadn’t, and you admitted that sheepishly. “It’s alright, I’m not here to force you, I’m only here to help you.” You nodded, but it wasn’t until Carol piped up saying how the practice might help you get a better handle on your new software that you actually decided to give it a shot when you got home.  

 

Carol had at one point offered to install a sort of child lock into your software to help keep the mental functions closest to that of a humans, at least until you were ready, and you had vehemently refused.  You were already paranoid about still being you, you didn’t want anyone tampering with anything if you could help it. You had said you would figure it out. Then you had proceeded to go home, and sit on the floor as your incessant and panic driven thoughts forced one thing after another onto your interface, effectively trapping you in place.  It took Connor hours to calm you down and walk you through what it felt like to dismiss the interface.

 

Your control on dismissal of it was getting better, but your rampant emotions of late were playing one hell of a dice game with it appearing on its own.  Thus you hadn’t even considered attempting to access it on your own desire. You hadn’t even sat down to try to parse through everything that was new, you’d only taken the time to learn the basics: maintaining your new body, how your core worked, hardware really.  Hardware you could understand. Software, even the idea that you were now composed of lines of code, code someone had written and then downloaded you into, that was a harder pill to swallow. No, it was much easier to take in the hardware factor of your new body. 

 

Hank had listened to you for half a bottle of whiskey, that was how he counted time for that conversation, as you rambled about what you had lost with your old body and slowly talked yourself into a point where you started to see the benefits of your new one.  It had been a constant back and forth of acceptance to frustration, and sadness to “well on the bright side”. He let you talk your way in and out of the conversation without saying a word himself, and when you were done the only thing he said was, “I’m just glad you’re alive, kid, but I’d  _ kill _ to not feel like someone had broken a bat over my back when I wake up some mornings.”  You had actually laughed at that, the sound startling both you and Hank and after about a week of everything but, it was a welcome sound.

  
  


Your session with Dr. Leland and Carol wrapped up quickly after that and you headed out.  You had taken a taxi to the office, but with everything rolling around in your head after the session you needed to walk.  It was about an hour walk from your apartment, so you took the scenic route, you were in no hurry, and being alone outside was not as heavy as being alone in your apartment.

 

You distracted yourself as best you could, taking in as much as you could to overload you mind with stimuli.  Your feet took you through a park and past some shops. The air was warm, almost uncomfortably so, but the breeze that tugged at your shirt and hair was cool and welcome.  For a moment you felt like you and the slight frown that almost seemed like a permanent expression on your face smoothed. 

 

A scent caught your nose, it was faint, but it smelled amazing.  You changed directions and followed it. It didn’t take you long to identify the scent as fresh funnel cakes, the scent leading you all the way to the farmer’s market.  It was busy, the early summer crops some people had managed to grow had done well, and there were many local artists, vendors, and food stalls scattered about. It wasn’t the biggest market you’d seen, but it was by far your favorite.  

 

Habit had you walking down the alleys of vendors, slipping through the slow steady stream of people that had come out.  Your mouth pressed into a thin line as you passed all the places you liked to buy food from, snacks for the day and produce for the week.  You kept walking, slowing when you reached Mrs. Henley’s little stand of homemade candles. Your’s had burnt down about a month or so ago and you hadn’t remembered to come back to get more.  

 

Hesitantly you turned off the path of people and stopped before Mrs. Henley’s stand.  You kept your eyes down towards the candles, searching for your favorite.

 

“____?”  You jerked your hand back at the sound of Mrs. Henley’s voice and looked up at her.  

 

_ What if she finds out? _

 

_ I shouldn’t have come here. _

 

“Hey, Mrs. H,” you said, forcing a smile to your face and a little cheer to your voice.  Her warm smile made the edges of her eyes crinkle.

 

“How have you been dear?  It’s been a while, you look good,” she said.

 

“Heh, thanks.  Been a hot minute, hasn’t it,” you said.  “I’m alright, how are you?” Your picked up the candle you had almost picked up earlier and turned it around in your hands, lifting it to you nose while the older woman told you about her day, it was a good one apparently.  The candle let you keep your hands busy, but the smell... You looked down in surprise at it, and brought it back to your nose again. 

 

“Something wrong with the candle?” Mrs. Henley asked with a chuckle.  You looked up at her with a strained smile.

 

“No, it just smells very good.  I never really noticed the honey you mixed with the vanilla, it’s so nice!”  You smelled the candle again and your smile softened. It smelled like that moment when you buried yourself in a soft blanket and everything was just, right.

 

“Sweetie are you ok?” Mrs. Henley asked, leaning forward a little.

 

“Yea, why?”

 

“Honey, you’re crying.”  She pointed at your cheeks and your lifted your hand to wipe away the offending tears.

 

“I’m fine Mrs. H, it’s just been a really hard few weeks is all,” you said and offered her a smile and handed her the candle to wrap up for you.

 

“You’re a sweet girl, I hope whatever is going on passes soon, you deserve to smile.”  She handed you the wrapped candle and you handed her the money it cost, at least now you didn’t have to spend money on food, you could afford things like this now.  That thought almost made you laugh, and almost tanked your mood at the same time. 

 

“Thanks,” you said, and slipped the candle into your bag.  She offered you an ear if ever you wanted to talk and then she wished you a good day.  As you were making your way deeper into the market you found your mind preoccupied with the fact that she hadn’t noticed anything wrong with you other than your mood.  You wondered if she would have cared about what you now were, and you pushed that aside. For now you wanted to focus on how soothing it had been to have her look at you like nothing had changed.  

 

Caught up in looking at the different stands and stalls you almost didn’t notice Simon and Markus walking in your direction, deep in conversation.  Your heart stopped, it didn’t, your thirium pump was working fine, but the fear that shot through you was more than enough to have you looking for the best escape route.  Unbidden, your interface sprung up and it almost felt like time slowed down. You swore you saw at least two routes away, but the shock and upset at what was happening kept you in place.  

 

_ Move _

 

_ Don’t just stand there like an idiot. _

 

_ Move past it! _

 

You started yourself walking, trying to ignore whatever was going on with your interface and blessedly it flickered and went away after a couple of steps.  You turned you face away as if you were checking the stalls on your right and tried to make your way past the androids. You knew Markus and Simon decently well, even called them your friends though you didn’t know how they felt about you.  They were friends with Connor though, so you knew they would know you if they spotted you. 

 

“Oh, hey ____,” Markus said.

 

Spotted.

 

You pulled a smile to your face and turned to them, acting like you hadn’t seen them and wasn't trying to get away.

 

“Oh hey guys, what’s up?” you asked, as nonchalant as you could.  Your eyes flicked over their faces, looking for any sign of upset.

 

“Not much, things are going pretty well actually, we figured we would take the day off,” Markus said, smiling at Simon, who was staring at you with a curious tilt to his head.

 

“Oh that’s goo-”

 

“____,” Simon said suddenly, cutting you off.  His eyes widened a little and he seemed to be studying you in confusion.  Was he scanning you? If he scanned you there was no way he wouldn't know, your biocomponents would give you away in a heartbeat. You could no longer swallow past the panic in your throat.  “Are you an -”

 

With each word he said fear filled your face, and then you ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com)
> 
> And a long standing shout out to my friend, my beta reader, and the person with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda)
> 
>  


	7. Spiral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'What’s wrong with being an android exactly?'
> 
>  
> 
> 'What stops me from being human?'
> 
>  
> 
> 'Is this how I will be seen from this point forward? An android?'
> 
>  
> 
> 'Does it even matter that I was once human?'
> 
>  
> 
> You were beginning to spiral again.
> 
>  
> 
> 'Hypocrite.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man, thank you guys for being patient with me. Ive had a few health things come up and ive got even more on the way so it's been hard getting myself to focus, so I've fallen a little behind in my writing. STILL! Don't think I've abandoned you or our reader here, I've got waayyyy too many things I want to explore in this fic so even if I'm a bit slow, I'm not going anywhere!
> 
> I love seeing your comments though guys, seriously, it get's me pumped seeing your reactions and I can't wait to finish the chapter I'm working on to get it out to you guys!

You ran, and you ran, and you ran.  You ran, and when you hit the intersection a few minutes from your apartment you slowed to a stop.  Your chest was heaving and you leaned over, putting your hands on your knees. The disconnect between your mind and your body was painfully evident in this moment.  Your mind was telling you that running meant labored breathing and stitches in your side, but your body was telling you that you didn’t need air and you had no muscles to be in pain right now, even the artificial lungs inside you felt no strain from your hyperventilation.  It was distracting, bracing yourself for expected pain and then feeling nothing but a memory. You weren’t even sweaty, but you were warm, almost uncomfortably so. At least that made sense to you; push a machine hard enough and it will start to run hot. 

 

When you calmed yourself a little and reigned in your reactive breathing you stood up and looked around cautiously.  It was clear you hadn’t been followed, but that wasn’t stopping you from being tense. What were you supposed to do now?  They knew, and soon more would know. You had to get in front of this, but you had no idea what to do. You needed to talk to Connor, but he was at work.  You could call him, but you knew he would leave as soon as he knew you were upset. It’s why you tried not to need him while he was gone and tried not to show you had needed him when he got back.  

 

_ Call him. _

 

_ I can't, it isn't fair to him. _

 

_ Call and act nonchalant. _

 

_ Oh hey babe, how's work? That's nice, I ran into Markus and Simon at the market and now they know what I am. How's Hank? _

  
  


An increasingly louder ringing noise in your ears had you shaking your head as you started off again towards home.  It was close, and if it didn't stop as suddenly as it did then you would have thought it was in your own head.

 

“___?”

 

Your head whipped around.

 

“Connor?” Connor was here? Where was he?

 

“Is everything alright?  Are you ok?” he sounded worried and he sounded close.  “___?” 

 

“Oh no,” you said, your gut sinking.  He was close alright, he was literally in your head.  You had called him, not intentionally, but with your inability to fully control which of your new functions triggered based on latent wants and desires it didn't seem to matter fully what your intentions had been.  “I….I didn't mean to call you, I was panicking and I just, I guess it, I don't-" You were rambling and Connor cut you off gently.

 

“Are you ok? Love, what’s wrong?”  He sounded so worried. Your throat closed up and you swallowed.  There, down the street was your apartment building, and it took all of your effort to not sprint through the front door.  You forced yourself to breathe past the guilt in your throat.

 

“I saw Markus and Simon at the market,” you said, slowly.

 

_ Love, what’s wrong? _

 

You missed a step and stumbled, finding your balance moments before you could tumble to the ground.  He had….he said….. You were really not equipped to handle all these emotions.

 

“They know, don’t they,” Connor said, pulling your attention back to the initial problem.

 

“I…..yes? I think so….I ran when Simon started to ask me, but I’m pretty sure they do.”  A strained laugh escaped you when you told him you had run. “You don’t need to leave work, I’m nearly home, I’ll be ok on my own,” you said.  You felt a pang when you said it, wanting him to leave, but if he did you knew you would feel worse.

 

“You said that before I could even offer,” Connor mused, then sighed.  “I wish I knew how to help you understand that even if you asked, I would be there if I could and I wouldn’t think it a burden.”  Even knowing he couldn’t see you, you felt the need to turn your face away in shame. You knew this, of course you did, but that didn’t make it any easier to accept.  

 

“I know….I’m sorry,” you said softly and you heard him bite back another sigh.

 

“Would it make you feel better if you knew that all Hank and I have been doing is throwing paper balls at Gavin’s desk?” Connor asked, his voice pitching a little with hidden amusement.  It worked though, his words tugging at the corner of your lips.

 

“You didn’t.”

 

“Just one, Hank threw the majority of them,” he chuckled.  You could almost see him sitting at his desk, leaning back in his seat and wearing that small, smug smile of his.  You entered the building and climbed the stairs to your apartment, slipping inside and locking it firmly behind you.

 

“And he  _ didn’t _ pull a gun on you for doing this?” you asked, incredulously, the smile in your voice dampened by your low boiling worries.

 

“He hasn’t seen it yet.”  

 

“Light day then, huh?”

 

“Very.  So if I leave? It won’t be a problem,” he said gently, urging you to the conclusion that it was ok to ask him to come home.  You knew what he was doing, you were making a face about it too. “Don’t make that face either.” Your jaw went slack.

 

“How the hell-?” you asked and he chuckled again.

 

“I know you well enough,” came his reply.  You huffed a breath.

 

“You’re on call tonight right?”

 

“Yes,” he said.  Ok, so if he wasn’t doing anything important right now, and he was on call anyway then it wasn’t like you were really taking him away from work.

 

“Can you come over?” Actually asking it sent a stone of regret into your gut, but it was too late to take it back now.

 

“Of course,” he said.  You could hear his smile, and the stone shrunk a little.  Then you paused, that squinty expression of “I know what you’re doing” returning to your face.

 

“You already left didn’t you.”  It wasn’t a question.

 

“Yes,” he said.  He sounded damn pleased with that fact and it took a whole lot of self control to not groan in response.

 

“How do I hang up?”

  
  


When you figured out how to end the call, refusing to let Connor hang up first because you were determined to learn how to do this yourself, he breathed a sigh of relief.  He had left the moment he heard the panic in your voice, telling Hank quietly that he had to go, and he was already in a taxi to your place before you’d finally asked him to leave.  Now he was mentally berating himself in the automated taxi.

 

He had slipped.   _ Love, what’s wrong. _  Connor felt his face and the back of his neck heat up in a worried pang of guilt.  He hadn’t meant to say that out loud, he hadn’t meant to put that on you right now.  He’d been thinking it more and more in his head, calling you his love to himself for a while now, and after you’d made the comment about falling in love with an android, albeit said in spiteful defense, he hadn’t been able to get the fact out of his head that, yes, he did love you.  The fact you didn’t blame him, that you wanted him with you, that you needed him did wonders to soothe his worry that you would hate him. You just never brought it up after that comment, and he hadn’t pried.

 

That didn’t stop his own imagination though, as frustrating a thing as it sometimes was.

 

By the time he reached your apartment, he’d stored all of that away.  Perhaps you didn’t hear it, but maybe you did. Either way it wasn’t what you needed right now.

 

He found you sitting on the couch, knees pulled up to your chest, eyes closed, and a candle burning on the coffee table in front of you.  It was pleasant, warm, and for a moment you seemed at peace. Then your eyes opened and he saw the turmoil you were struggling to get under control.

 

He didn’t say anything at first, shucking his jacket and pulling his tie off, draping them over the armchair and moving to sit beside you.  As soon as he was seated you unceremoniously tipped over onto your side until you fell, your head landing on his lap. A smile pulled the side of his mouth up and he combed his fingers through your hair.  You’d told him before that when he did that it didn’t feel quite how it did with your original body, but after a while you admitted that it still felt nice and he had long since noticed the calming effect it had on you.  To him, the only difference now was that you had less frayed ends.

 

“Thank you,” you said after a while, your thoughts slowly falling into an easier to digest pile.  Connor lifted your hand from off his knee and placed a kiss to your fingers. Such a simple and light gesture, but it told you more than his words could have. He was rewarded with the crease between your eyebrows softening just a little.  “I’m worried.”

 

“About?”

 

“The others...all of the others…” you trailed off.  

 

His smile fell.  It was the same argument.  Would they accept you, believe you were the same if they knew.  Unfortunately, Connor knew that until you could accept yourself, it was going to be nearly impossible for you to believe that anyone else could as well.  He also knew that that wasn’t what you needed to hear right now. The problem was, he didn’t know what you needed to hear, but he did know of things you could do, that the two of you could do to ease your worries, hopefully.

 

“We need to talk to them,” Connor said after a few more minutes of silence.  You rolled over to look up at him. His hand shifted when you did and came to rest at the top of your head.  His expression was one of carefully crafted neutrality.

 

“Who?”  You knew who.  Connor just raised an eyebrow at you.

 

“Markus and Simon.”  Hearing him say their names aloud though brought that fast growing panic back into your chest, and he saw it in your eyes.

 

“Stop, please, just listen to me,” he said quickly.  “We don’t know what they know, or what they think, and if we talk to them sooner rather than later, if we get them to understand, then you won’t have to worry as much about word getting out and feeling the world’s eyes on you.  Their opinion holds a lot of weight for our kind.” He saw your eyes widen at that and dim.  _ Shit _ .  

 

_ Our kind. _

 

You weren’t sure if he meant his and Markus’s people, their kind, or if he meant you and him. Including you.  Labelling you an android.

 

_ What’s wrong with being an android exactly? _

 

_ What stops me from being human? _

 

_ Is this how I will be seen from this point forward? An android? _

 

_ Does it even matter that I was once human? _

 

You were beginning to spiral again.

 

_ Hypocrite. _

 

_ You never liked most humans anyway. _

 

_ Is it so bad to be called an android? _

 

_ Worthless. _

 

_ What’s the point of you now?   _

 

_ What even made you special before? _

 

_ What made me special before? _

 

_ Garbage. _

 

Your thoughts, at constant war with themselves, and so easily turned against you had you wrapped up in a dark blanket.  You didn’t register Connor saying your name, trying to get your attention. It was so easy to lose yourself to the emptiness that threatened to swallow you whole.  No that wasn’t right. Emptiness would be better than the gaping pit of self degradation and depreciation. 

 

You were crying, shaking there on the couch, head still on Connor’s lap.  You had turned away from him, eyes staring blankly ahead. 

 

_ What does it matter what everyone thinks of you if you aren’t even real to begin with? _

 

_ You aren’t you. _

 

_ Not me anymore. _

 

You blinked away tears in your eyes, the blurred vision making you uncomfortable and a flickering caught your attention.  Your eyes zeroed in on the candle on the table, on the flame. Then you registered the scent of the candle, that warm scent that had made you feel safe before.  You quieted.

 

_ Not fair. _

 

_ I’m not being fair to myself. _

 

_ I’m not being fair to Connor. _

 

_ Stop worrying about feeling better for everyone else’s sake! _

 

_ It’s not fair. _

 

_ You have to at least try. _

 

_ What’s the point? _

 

_ He loves you, you can’t self destruct without giving yourself a chance. _

 

_ What if I’m not really me? _

 

_ Why does it matter if you aren’t who you were?  Why are you the only one not allowed to change? _

 

Back and forth, over and over again you yelled at yourself, knocked yourself down, tried to convince yourself that it was going to be ok, and then repeated the entire process. 

 

_ He loves me...what an odd thing… _

 

And then you were laughing, it was shaky and weak, and completely out of the blue.  Connor’s sensor flashed red for the briefest of seconds before settling back to blue.

 

“I’m a mess,” you whispered after calming down.  You rolled back over to look up at him, at his pained and worried expression, and tried to offer him a reassuring smile.  Connor shook his head, a huffed breath and a tentative smile lighting his own face. He brushed away the stray tears on your face and you held his hand in place on your cheek.  “I’m never going to get anywhere if I don’t try to at least face something,” you said with a sigh. “I’d rather face them than my family.”

 

Connor could live with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com) And don't feel shy sending me asks or just hitting me up!
> 
> And a long standing shout out to my friend, my beta reader, and the person with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda)


	8. Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I understand how you feel about her Connor, I do, but how do you even know if this...procedure even did what you hoped? How do you know that this is the same ____ that died?” Markus asked Connor via the short range, android to android communication program. Connor’s eyes turned steely.
> 
>  
> 
> “You have no idea how hard this is on her, she can barely even accept herself as it is. It’s tearing her apart. Why do you think she ran from you today?” Markus blinked in surprise, staring at Connor, and for a moment a flash of what could have been regret crossed his face. “Don’t you think those thoughts crossed my mind? Everything she’s done and said since she woke up in that hospital has only proven that she is still herself, body be damned. So don’t you dare say anything to make her think otherwise!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EEYYY Chapter 8! I love seeing your guy's reactions and thoughts on this so far and holy SHIT this things gotten over 2k hits??? Thats amazing, for me at least. eheheh. so, thank you guys! 
> 
> And ooo boi, just when you think things are getting better you have no idea what kind of roller coaster emotions are coming up. :]
> 
> HOT TAKE! I made a blog specifically for writing and things related to it, e.g. ideas, WIPs, imagines, etc! [Viv Writes](https://vividlywriting.tumblr.com)

You were seriously wondering if there was any chance in hell you could convince Connor to let you back out of this confrontation, meeting, confession, thingy.  You knew that if there was one that it was slim to none. 

 

While Connor had held you on the couch, when you were coming to your own conclusions on what you were able to do, he had received a call from Markus.  He had dismissed it immediately. Connor also dismissed the next two in similar fashion. He knew Markus had to have been calling about you, but he wasn’t going to tell him or anyone else anything about your new state until you were ready.  It didn’t matter if he thought you should tell the people closest to you. It also didn’t matter if he had faith that you would be accepted. It didn’t even matter if he thought it would do you good to share this with people that cared about you.  What mattered was what you wanted, if that meant keeping this a secret until shit hit the fan then he would be there to help you clean up the mess. 

 

Connor couldn’t begin to fathom what you were feeling, what went on in your head beyond what you told him, and he refused to probe your mind to find out.  He had done enough. Yet despite his worries about you, and despite the pit of emotional distress you had fallen into, there were small things that gave him hope.  Moments when you almost seemed like your old self, moments like today when you steeled yourself and took a step, no matter how begrudging or hesitant, forward. Small improvements, small enough that anyone could easily miss them, so small that even you could barely see the progress you were making, and yet monumental for the rk800.

 

Connor would never force you to do anything, no matter how much he thought it would benefit you, but he also wouldn’t let you run without trying first.  So, to put it simply, the chances of him letting you back out now were indeed slim to none.

 

You refused to have Simon and Markus come to your place, but you also refused to go to their home, Haven, the series of abandoned warehouses that had been renovated to become what was basically the new Jericho.  It had actually been Markus who suggested meeting at the Public Library, or more precisely in the nearby gardens. You supposed it was as good a place as any, better than most if you really thought about it. The gardens at the library had always been a calming place for you, a place you went when you wanted to clear your mind and pretend the world didn’t exist for a while.  You hadn’t been to the gardens for a long while now, but here you were, waiting for the couple to arrive.

 

The gardens were empty save for you and Connor, a blessed relief.  Connor was sitting on one of the stone benches near the fountain, You, however, were not.  You tried, hand clasped in his and that lasted all of about two minutes before you’d stood up abruptly and begun pacing.  Around the fountain, then back around the other way. All Connor could do was watch. 

 

You heard them before you saw them, feet scuffing against the cobblestones, even and soft.  You tensed up and moved quickly back over to where Connor sat, your back rigid as you stood there.  Your shoulders were hunched defensively when they reached the two of you, everything about your posture and expression screaming anxiety and uncertainty.

 

“Hello Markus. Simon,” Connor said pleasantly, offering them a smile in greeting.  Markus stepped forward, his eyes flicking from Connor to you. Simon hadn’t stopped staring the moment he saw you.  You could feel your processors trying to regulate the stress that was growing inside you, unfortunately for it your mind was crafted by humanity so all it could do was warn you that your stress levels were rising dangerously and quickly.

 

“Connor.  ____,” Markus said with a nod, the smile he had given you at the market nowhere in sight.  You blanched, stepping back only for the back of your leg to hit the bench. Connor stood up quickly, stepping in front of you.  His smile was gone and his posture was no longer lax, but straight and professional. To you it looked like a warning, and it reminded you of how stiff he had been when you’d first met him.  

 

Markus raised an eyebrow at Connor, looking him up and down.  Then, much to your surprise, he started to laugh. You swallowed, confusion making you look from Connor to Markus for some sign of what was going on.  You saw Connor relax and give Markus a look.

 

Was this some sort of inside joke or something?  Was this even a time to joke? 

 

You couldn’t stand the anticipation any longer, something had to give, and it was going to be you.

 

“Yes, hi, over here,” you said.  You were beginning to fidget and your voice was anything but confident.  “I would like to get this over with before an anxiety attack sets in.” All eyes were on you now and there was no denying the fact that you looked on the verge of a break down.  Your eyes were wide, wary, your breathing shallow, and your hands were shaking. Connor stepped back even with you and put his hand on your arm. 

 

“So you are an android,” Simon said, eyes narrowed slightly before turning to look at Markus, who looked at you.

 

“Yes-”  Your voice came out almost too quiet to hear.  You cleared your throat and tried again. “I...yes…,” you said.

 

Boy were those flowers interesting, such a fascinating, safe thing to look at.

 

“How did this happen?” Markus asked.  His voice was almost accusatory, two steps past plain curiosity.  

 

You shook your head, mouth opening uselessly.  Connor stayed silent, his hand moving from your arm to your back.

 

“I died,” you forced out. Not the most eloquent way to put it for sure, but it wasn’t really on your mind to spare their feelings rather than just word vomit until it was over.

 

The silence following your statement was short and tense.  Broken by a sudden and simultaneous outcry of “WHAT?!” from both Markus and Simon.  You flinched. Cautiously you looked at them, gauging their expressions. Surprise, alarm, disbelief, concern, if ever you witnessed a face journey this was sure one hell of a trip.  They looked at Connor, whether they were looking for confirmation or some indication that this was a joke you weren’t sure, but what they found was a drawn look of pain on the rk800’s face.  Then they turned their attention back to you and you shrunk in on yourself further. You felt sick.

 

_ They know you’re a fraud. _

 

_ How could they accept me? _

 

_ I can’t even run away. _

 

_ I don’t want to run forever. _

 

_ Doesn’t have to be forever if you get far enough away.   _

 

_ But I can’t just leave.   _

 

_ Why do I have to hide? _

 

_ Isn’t it enough that I already hate myself. _

 

_ You don’t hate yourself. _

 

_ No, I don’t hate myself.   _

 

_ I’m afraid of myself. _

 

_ I’m afraid of this life. _

 

It was Simon who stepped forward and took your hand in his.  Your eyes shot to his face, wide and full of fear of what he might say.  It felt like your heart was slowing down, like time was slowing down.

 

“Are you ok?” Simon asked, and just like that the bubble inside you popped.  The warnings faded and you nodded, then you shook your head. You rubbed your eyes with your free hand, unable to get any words out.  This was not the reaction you had expected.

 

But it was the reaction Connor had expected, well, hoped for.  His own tension melted away and he rubbed your back soothingly.  

 

Simon looked back at Markus when it became apparent exactly how distraught you were.  Haven’s leader rubbed the back of his head. This was certainly beyond anything he had expected to see in his lifetime.  He didn’t even really know quite how to process it, but you were scared. Markus blew out a breath and nodded to Simon.

 

You were taken farther into the gardens where the cobblestones gave way to trees and well kept grass, there you and the other androids sat down.  You might have laughed at the fact that three of the most influential androids you knew were sitting on the grass if you weren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop, it just wasn’t something you’d ever thought you would see.

 

Instead, you and Connor told the two of them what had happened.  Markus gave Connor a sharp look when he learned how and why this happened, and Connor just stared him down.  You watched as the sensor on Connor’s temple flickered to yellow, then looked at Markus. It almost looked like they were having a staring contest.

 

**“I understand how you feel about her Connor, I do, but how do you even know if this...procedure even did what you hoped?  How do you know that this is the same ____ that died?”**  Markus asked Connor via the short range, android to android communication program.  Connor’s eyes turned steely.

 

**“You have** **_no_ ** **idea how hard this is on her, she can barely even accept herself as it is.  It’s tearing her apart. Why do you think she ran from you today?”** Markus blinked in surprise, staring at Connor, and for a moment a flash of what could have been regret crossed his face.   **“Don’t you think those thoughts crossed my mind?  Everything she’s done and said since she woke up in that hospital has only proven that she is still herself, body be damned.  So don’t you** **_dare_ ** **say anything to make her think otherwise!”** Simon looked between the two of them, expression mostly blank except for the concern in his eyes.  Tension was growing in the air, it made you fidget. 

 

You vaguely remembered being told that androids could communicate without actually speaking, and you had a feeling you knew what they were talking about.  You sunk your fingers into the grass, chewing on your cheek.

 

**“Markus she needs you, she needs friends who can believe in her, in her existence,”** Connor said, glare softening.  You sighed, almost imperceptibly, and yet three pairs of eyes found you.  You looked up, discomfort coiling in your belly, the feeling similar to stress induced nausea.  

 

“I’m sorry,” Markus said aloud.  You wanted to ask what he was apologizing for, you also didn’t.  You already knew, but a grateful smile smoothed the stress from Connor’s face so you cleared your throat, pushing through your base instinct to mentally shut down.

 

“I....I want it to still be me, I have no way of knowing if I’m not beyond what others tell me, but…”  You took a deep breath that didn’t help you at all. “As long as I don’t… as long as… if I don’t tell anyone they’re going to treat me as if nothing is different.”  You looked at the grass, pulling up strand by strand methodically, thinking about Mrs. Henley. “If I… if they learn what I am now… there’s no guarantee that they’ll accept me, or even believe I’m still me.”  You looked up. “Even if they were just treating me the same moments before.” 

 

You didn’t tell them that was why you ran away, or why you almost didn’t agree to meet them, but clear as day that look of regret crossed Markus’s face again and even Simon looked away with an expression of shame.  

 

“I’m sorry,” Markus said.  His eyes searched your face, but you had no way of knowing if he found what he was looking for when he sighed.  You shrugged.

 

“I can’t really blame you for meeting expectations,” you froze.  “Sorry, that came out wrong. I didn’t mean to-”

 

“But you’re right.  I can see why you wouldn’t have wanted to tell anyone,” Markus said with a shake of his head.  

 

“Even if you can hide this from humans, any android will be able to tell with a simple scan,” Simone interjected.  He looked at you and you could only look back imploringly. “We can help, will help,” he promised, leaving no room for argument when he looked at Markus.  Markus smiled and took Simon’s hand in his own. 

 

“Of course, you’re our friend, you deserve the chance to be accepted just like anyone else regardless of what your body is made of.”  Markus’s words were determined and encouraging. He was going to help, they both were. They  _ cared _ .  You looked at Connor, trying your damnedest to not start crying, once again, for what felt like the umpteenth time that day.  He raised an eyebrow at you, giving you what was clearly an “I told you so” look and intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand.

 

“See?” he said with smile.  You covered your face with your other hand, and laughed.  It was a little watery, but it was light. 

 

“Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com) I'm always happy to chat, and if there's anything you'd like to show me you know where to find me!
> 
> And a long standing shout out to my friend, my beta reader, and the person with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda)


	9. Pain and Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re disgusting, what gives you the right to call yourself an android?” the android sneered. He was clearly furious, disgusted with you. You tugged futilely against his grip and Anastasia clawed at him to try to force him to release you, shouting at him.
> 
>  
> 
> “I don’t, I don’t call myself anything!” you cried out. “Please, just let me go, I’ve done nothing!” The android’s grip tightened still and you felt the plastic of your forearm creak in protest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I have to preface this chapter with a warning because if you noticed I added to the tags recently. This chapter has some very violating themes in it, physical assault is minimal, kept to only a grabbed arm, but the emotions and what happens could be triggering to some people.
> 
> I had three of my friends read through this chapter and there are specific reasons I handled things the way I did, so if you're curious about anything just ask me =u=)b 
> 
> And if you noticed the chapter title went from one words to two, and when you read the chapter it will make sense why.

You were thankful that you hadn't been asked to go to Haven when the residents learned about you.  From what Connor told you, it had been an uproar. Many of the androids felt that a human now in an android body was the humans’ way of taking what they can't have, of encroaching on what made the android species unique.  The others were a mix of neutrality and acceptance. It took the Jericho leaders a long while to soothe them all, explaining what they knew and their feelings on the matter. Even North, despite her being a part of the group that were unhappy with this, did her part to make Haven a safe place for you to be.  

 

Regardless of their efforts it was four days after their announcement to the android population before you visited Haven.  The sickening feeling of foreboding kept you secure in your apartment as anything and everything became a distraction from what you knew you needed to face.  You needed to do laundry. You needed to clean the apartment. You weren’t feeling up to it. You got distracted and then it was too late to go.

 

Connor did his best to encourage you, to be patient, but since you couldn’t claim sickness he knew you were stalling and admittedly he was a little frustrated.  It was as if you were digging your heels in, refusing to be pulled out of your burrow. After the third day of this he had sighed and told you it was ok, then went to work.  There he had talked to Hank. Connor didn’t know what to do, and he didn’t want to force you, but he wondered if pushing the issue was really the worst thing he could do right now, if letting you sabotage yourself was worse in the long run.  Hank had grumbled, eyeing the android. Connor had forced many issues with Hank, but if he hadn’t Hank doubted he would have his partner now at all. So all he told Connor was to follow his instincts. Then he called you as soon as Connor had gone to speak to Chris about their newest case.

 

Hank’s beration on your attitude nearly knocked you on your ass.  You were hurting Connor acting like this, not letting him help, and even though you already knew that, you sure as hell felt the weight of your actions now.  Hank thought of Connor in a much more fatherly manner than he may ever admit, but this was the closest you ever heard him get to that admission. Your guilt ridden apologies made the older man sigh.  He was just worried about you, you and Connor were family to him. He told you to stop running, even going so far as to say that Sumo missed you.

 

After the phone call with Hank you sat on the couch, holding your phone in a death grip.  Of course he was right, but it had never been your intention to hurt anyone. You just hadn’t cared if you were hurting yourself in the process.

 

By the time Connor left the station that night you’d managed to get yourself off of the couch and out of your apartment.  You wanted to keep your hands busy, you wanted to do something to take you out of your own head, and since you were never very good at just doing something for yourself, Connor and Hank arrived at their place to the smell and sight of you in the kitchen and Sumo pitifully laying feet from you hoping you would drop something.  

 

Food was always the easiest way for you to show your gratitude, even if you could never cook for Connor, seeing you cook a meal in thanks for Hank was more than enough for Connor.  Seeing you out of your apartment, seeing you in the kitchen, a place you’d been more afraid of going than even Haven, when you turned to greet them you were floored with the look of pure happiness on Connor’s face.  Your words died in your throat and you offered the two men a smile that wavered with uncertainty. Hank knew what you were doing, he was just as bad at expressing himself. He smiled at you, that tired half a smile he only seemed capable of producing, and you breathed out a sigh in relief, your smile growing less uncertain.

 

You turned back to the stove, checking on the meat in the oven.  Sumo had crawled closer, so you nudged him away with your foot and shook your head.  The smell of dinner filled the kitchen and you swallowed. You hadn’t been sure if the food would come out ok, even though you knew there was nothing stopping you from cooking as well as you always had, but it smelled wonderful.  Unfortunately, you would never know if it would taste alright too, you’d have to take everyone else's word for it.

 

You took the pan from the oven and set it down to rest on the stove when Connor wrapped his arms around your waist.  You startled, back stiffening for a moment, then you relaxed. He didn’t say anything, only kissed your cheek and then laughed when you took the oven mitts off of your hands and swatted at him with them.

 

“Hey!  You know how I feel about distractions in the kitchen,” you berated him, a small smile playing over your face.  A feeling of wary contentment filled you. It was nice, welcome even, and yet surprising. You heard Connor chuckle, though he didn’t let you go.

 

“I do,” he said, voice low and teasing.  You blinked, looking down at the pot of potatoes on the stove.  What did he -?

 

Oh.

 

Your thirium pump tripped over itself at the quick change from contentment to flustered embarrassment, and you turned to give Connor a thin lipped look of horrified amusement, forcing him to remove his arms from around you.  His hands settled on your hips and he gave you a shit eating grin. He looked so happy, and he was. Teasing you, seeing you do something you loved, it gave him hope. That didn’t stop you from hitting him on the chest with the oven mitt, your expression telling him he was being a little shit.  Connor raised his eyebrows and shoulders in a teasing shrug, then leaned down and kissed you on the forehead. You let out a soft sigh, leaning into him for a moment, then pulled back telling him to get out so you didn’t ruin the food.

 

After you’d finished cooking the meal you busied yourself cleaning the kitchen, afraid of what Hank would think of the food, and then giddy with relief when he said it was the best thing he had eaten in weeks, something about rarely having a home cooked meal.  

 

When Connor took Sumo out, you were still holed up in the kitchen, hands working on autopilot as you put ingredients in a bowl like you had a million times before.  It was as you were mixing the batter to your signature brownies that you stopped and stared at the bowl. You’d wanted to make these, part of your thanks for sure, but also to prove to yourself that you could and the high of your accomplishment from dinner had carried you right into making dessert.  So why did you stop?

 

The sound of silverware clinking against a plate as it was set in the sink made you jump.

 

“Kid, you need to stop getting caught up in your head,” Hank chided.  “Take it from me, it ain’t a place you want to be.” You started stirring again, slowly.

 

“I know, Hank.”  You poured the batter into the baking pan and smoothed it flat.  Hank huffed a laugh.

 

“Gotta say, when I said stop running from your problems I didn’t mean run to my house.”  He started to laugh again and your hand hovered over the chocolate syrup. Then you snatched it up and pointed it at him.

 

“So I guess you don’t need this dessert to go with that home cooked meal then?”

 

“HEY!  I didn’t say that!”  Hank put his hands up.  You turned back to the brownies and swirled the syrup across the top.  

 

“You’re right though,” you said when you’d finished and put the pan in the oven.  Hank didn’t ask what you meant and you didn’t elaborate.

 

Connor returned with Sumo shortly after. Hank was back on the couch watching the game and you were sitting at the kitchen table staring absentmindedly at the oven.  When he sat down you sighed.

 

“I’ll go tomorrow,” you said.  You kept your eyes on the oven for a moment before turning your gaze to Connor.  His eyes were the only thing giving away the hope and joy he felt. “To Haven, I’ll go.  I know you have work...but I….” You trailed off, you didn’t want to go alone, but you didn’t want to make Connor take more time off of work than he already had for you.  You saw Connor’s sensor flicker yellow for a moment and his mouth pulled to the side as if he was deep in thought. Then his sensor settled to blue again and he smiled at you.

 

“Simon has agreed to go with you.”  He had called Simon?

 

“Simon?”

 

Connor nodded, “Markus said he wouldn’t be able to get out of his meetings, but he said Simon was more than happy to assist you.”  He reached across the table and took your hand in his. “I know you’re worried, and I know if I took off work you would feel even worse.”  You couldn’t deny that. “So as soon as I’m free I’ll come join you. You can always leave if you’re uncomfortable-” no you wouldn’t, you were too stubborn to quit once you’d started something. “-and Simon will be there, and if you get really worried you can call me.”  You looked down at the table, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Ok?” Connor asked, squeezing your hand and trying to get you to look at him. You kept your gaze down, but nodded. Of course it was ok, he’d thought of everything to make you comfortable and you’d been nothing but an unresponsive burden to him.

 

The ding of the timer telling you that the brownies were done made you jump and push your chair back to stand.  Connor held onto your hand fast, refusing to let you go. When you looked at him he had raised an eyebrow at you.

 

“Ok?” he asked again, more insistently, and you smiled at him.

 

“Yes, that should work fine.”  You pulled on your hand, yet he still wasn’t letting go.  “The brownies are going to start getting dry if you don’t let me go,” you insisted, the words petering out when he pressed a kiss to your fingers before letting you go.  There was such a soft look of pride and love in Connor’s eyes that if you had a stomach you would have said butterflies had erupted in it. As it was you had no idea where the butterflies were actually wreaking havoc, but they made you feel like you had when you had first realized you were falling for the android.  

 

“Babe, the brownies?” Connor teased, poking at you for staring.  You swore and spun to pull the brownies from the oven. He chuckled from his seat behind you and you dutifully kept your attention on your confection.  You pulled out the bag of powdered sugar and your small sifter. Carefully you sprinkled the sugar atop the hot brownies, tapping the sifter against the palm of your opposite hand to knock the sugar free in a snow fall.  When the top of the brownies were coated you put the sugar away and stared longingly at the sugar dusting your fingers.

 

You so wanted to lick the sugar off, revelling in the sweet powdery remains of a job well done. You didn’t though.  Instead you pushed away the pain, something you were getting better at doing, and turned back to Connor. There was a look of concern on his face, having watched your demeanor change in an instant.  You walked up to him, remembering the kiss he had placed on your fingers, and then you placed those self same fingers along with the other sugar coated ones of your other hand on both sides of his face.  Surprise crossed his features when your hands tilted his head up, only for you to kiss the tip of his nose and then pull away to walk back to the living room. Dusting the sugar you hadn’t left on Connor’s face off on your jeans.  

 

Connor sat for a moment before looking at the dark window in the kitchen to see sugary hand prints on either side of his face.

 

“Little shit,” he said, loud enough for you to hear and wiped the sugar from his face with a pleased smile while Hank asked you what you had done now.

  


True to his word Simon arrived at your apartment late in the morning, and despite your mind doing its best to drag you back into the farthest room from the door and ignoring his knocking, you kept to yours.  The nervous smile you gave your friend when you opened your door was returned with one of understanding and encouragement.  
  
“You ready?” Simon asked, he chuckled good naturedly when you shook your head.  “That’s ok, I wasn’t ready to march against the armed soldiers either.” You looked up from locking your door, eyes widening a flash in surprise.

 

“Really?” you asked.  Simon nodded. You shoved your key into your pocket and followed him down the steps and up the sidewalk.  “I remember watching the news that night, remember seeing you all. I wouldn’t have thought you were nervous or scared from looking at you,” you admitted.

 

“But I was, I didn’t want to die, didn’t want Markus to die.  There were moments when I was absolutely terrified, when I wasn’t even sure if our cause was worth dying over,” Simon said, and put his hands into the pockets of his jacket, “but I had faith in Markus, and he had faith in me.  I wasn’t going to let him down if I could help it.” Hearing what Simon had gone through and the strength he showed gave you some comfort, but still you looked at him with awe. You still had no idea how your life lead you to meeting him and Connor and all the others, how you had gotten to the point that you called them friends and they were willing to go out of their way to help you.  

 

“Thank you, by the way,” you said softly.  Simon looked over at you, eyes as soft as his smile.

 

“Of course.”  You could see why Markus fell for him, he was a warm soul.

 

Simon walked with you to Haven, it would take about an hour to get there on foot, but you preferred it to being in a taxi at the moment and Simon didn’t seem to mind. The stimuli of being outside, feeling the sun and breeze, hearing the world around you, took you out of your own head.  You and Simon walked in companionable silence until you smelled something familiar on the air. Simon looked at you curiously when he saw you scenting the air like a bloodhound.

 

“What are you doing?” he asked, trying not to laugh.  You looked at him with a sad smile.

 

“I was trying to figure out what that smell was, it smells like chocolate.  Kind of like the melted chocolate we used at work when we needed to make batches of dipped cake squares,” you said wistfully, looking around for the source.  Simon sniffed the air and shook his head, he couldn’t quite pick the scents apart, but he was fascinated watching you follow the smell to a chocolate shop not far away.  You looked through the window for a moment, your mouth pulled to the side in resignation, before turning back to your previous path.  
  
“I’m impressed, how did you pick that out?” Simone asked, falling in step beside you.  You shrugged.  
  
“I love..d food,” you said simply, catching yourself.  “Especially sweets, and I’ve always been pretty good with my nose, it’s saved more than once batch of cookies!”  You laughed, relaxing a little again. “I’m surprised I’ve still got that,” you confessed.

 

“Well, androids do have heightened senses compared to humans, but I don’t think your ability to differentiate smells comes from your new body, I think that’s all you,” Simon mused.  Your stomach flipped. _All you._  That would make sense, wouldn’t it, your mind knew what the different smells were, if they were good or bad, but to you.  You had assumed all androids were programmed to recognize different scents and build profiles of them all, good or bad being irrelevant.  You had already done that, your entire life you’d been building profiles of the different scents you had come across, telling them apart, even confusing them on your own.  You loved the smell of fresh, melted chocolate, it appealed to you, made you feel warm from memories connected to the smell. That was all you.  
  
You smiled a little more, even shifted your shoulders in what could have been called a wiggle of joy, but all you said was, “huh”.  A few minutes passed before Simon spoke up again.

 

“You work at the Luna Bakery downtown, don’t you?” he asked.  Your smile faltered.

 

“I did,” you said after a moment of silence.

 

“Did?  Did you quit?”

 

“No, not really, I just haven’t been able to go back since, well since all this started.”  You sighed, avoiding Simon’s stare. “They gave me leave, knowing I was in an accident, I know that it’s going to run out soon though.”

 

“Why don’t you go back?”  You could hear in Simon’s voice that he already knew the reason on why you hadn’t gone back to work yet, so you just shot him a baleful look. It had no affect on him, and he just waited patiently for your response.  
  
“Same reason I ran away from you a few days ago,” you said dryly.  “Well...that and I wasn’t sure if should, could try to go back, what with me not being able to eat or taste, not being human anymore.”  You noted that Simon’s steps slowed when yours did, he was kind of stubborn too you realized.

 

“I get the first part, but just because I couldn’t eat that didn’t stop me from cooking for the family I was with before I deviated.”  His voice was devoid of any sort of contempt. It sounded like he was just stating a fact, like the weather.

 

“Yea, I know, I mean I get it.  I was, maybe still am a little, afraid of cooking anything, messing it up because I’m not who I was, but I gave it a shot last night.  It felt good, making someone happy with what I was good at. Validating, I guess.” You looked at the street signs you were passing, figuring you had to be nearly to Haven at this point.  Simon hummed in response to your words before responding.

 

“Sounds like you’re more afraid of being cut off from doing what you love, than not being good at it anymore,” he pointed out.  You couldn’t even say anything against that, because he was right, and he knew it.

 

“You know I already have a therapist right?” you replied.

 

“Hmm, yes, I do now.  I wasn’t offering to be one though,” he retorted, a hint of sarcasm making you look at the blonde man.  

 

“Mhm, so what? Simon says stop being a little bitch?”  Your response made him laugh, pulling the smile you were hiding out.

 

“No, ‘Simon says’ take it one step at a time,” Simon joked.  You nearly rolled your eyes.

 

“What if I take two and call you in the morning, doc?”  Now you were laughing a little, soft giggles over your own jokes that had Simon chuckling and shooting you an exasperated look.  He was glad to see you laughing, even just a smile had been a relief. The concern Connor had for you, that your friends had for you, he wasn’t sure if you really understood how much they all cared about you.  So he called it a win that you’d found a moment of much needed levity, it showed him that you were going to be alright.

 

Almost too quickly, though, you reached Haven.  You stopped outside the door of the main building, worry turning into a swarm of wasps inside you.

 

“It’s going to be alright, I’m right here.  Ok?” Simon asked gently and you nodded. You could do this, you had to.  After all, you were getting real tired of just sitting in your apartment for twenty four hours a day, everyday.  So you nodded and followed your friend inside.

 

The feeling of everyone looking at you that you’d had since you’d become an android, was compounded by the fact that everyone you passed inside Haven _was_ looking at you.  No number of deep breaths could calm your nerves now.  Silently you trailed behind Simon, doing your best not to catch anyone’s eyes.  

 

You were familiar with the layout of Haven, having visited often with Connor in the past. The main building, what could have been called a complex really, housed quite a few androids as well as sporting a couple of recreational areas, a couple of technician stations and biocomponent printers, and a decently sized hall the androids used to discuss and dispute any issues that might arise.  The upper floors were dedicated to the living spaces of those androids that stayed here, and you knew it was where Simon, Markus, North, and Josh resided. You were also aware of the fact that Connor had been offered a place in Haven as well, though he had turned it down in favor of staying with Hank. After all, someone had to make sure the lieutenant made it to work on time.

 

When you reached the first recreational area of the main complex, you were greeted by many large screens, some tuned to the news and others to various channels.  Lounging areas filled the room, along with many tables and games favored by humans to pass the time. You’d learned early on that the androids preferred games with a hearty amount of chance to them.  You knew other areas in the complex were set up for androids to explore their own creativity, but those areas were usually more secluded to allow for peace and quiet.

 

The farther into the open area that you went, the farther behind Simon you lagged.  

 

_See, they don’t want you here._

 

_You really are an abomination._

 

_This was ridiculous why did I ever think this would solve anything._

 

_They’re all just staring at me._

 

_Why don’t they just get it over with!?_

 

_Why don’t I have a right to be here?_

 

_Why would I have a right to be here?_

 

You felt a hand on your back and realized Simon had fallen back to your side.

 

“Are you ok?” he asked, brow knit with concern.  You swallowed and nodded, then you shook your head and shrugged.  You had no idea if you were ok. “Don’t worry, it will just take some time.”  You sighed, but returned his encouraging smile with one of false bravado. You just needed to tough it out, new things often made people uncomfortable and time usually smoothed that out.  

 

Simon led you over to one of the tables where a few androids were playing cards. You recognized them as you had met them before in your visits.  You’d actually come to call them your friends. Anastasia, Miles, and Ferra; they had taken to you instantly and often escorted you around Haven when you visited without Connor, introducing you to more androids than you could remember.  Anastasia had worked in a pastry shop, and bonded with you over your love of baking. Miles had worked in children’s healthcare, he was really just a big softie. You swore Miles was originally designed to work construction with his large build, but he was the least intimidating man you had ever met.  You would not have been surprised to see children take to him. As for Ferra, she never really liked to talk about where she came from or what she used to do, and had been skeptical of your presence when she’d first met you. Of course with her fiery passion and quick temper came an even stronger sense of loyalty.  She astounded you constantly with her keen eyes, picking apart when you were even slightly off than normal, and threatening to personally handle anything or one that dared to cause you harm.

 

You almost told Simon you didn’t want to bother them, that you would rather leave them out of this, but you were spotted before you could think of running.  All three of the androids turned to you as if on cue. You searched their faces, looking for any hint of rejection or acceptance. You groaned internally when your interface popped up with information on all three of them; trying to figure out what emotion they would show had triggered your systems to scan them instead.  Your eyes unfocused, scanning through information you already knew, and information you felt you had no right to know, trying to banish the display from your eyes. When Ferra’s information popped up you closed your eyes entirely. It wasn’t for you to see, it wasn’t your business.

 

“_____?” Your eyes flew open at the sound of Anastasia’s voice, the display breaking apart when she rushed through it to sweep you up into a hug.  “Oh you poor dear! Let me look at you, let me see!” She pulled back, leaving her hands on your shoulders as she looked you up and down. “Glorious, look at you!  I’m so happy you’re alright! Ohhh...Come here!” She pulled you in for another hug, forcing what sounded like a cross between a sob and a laugh from you as you returned the embrace.  

 

“When they told us what happened, the accident, many of us were devastated,” Miles said, his voice soft and warm.  Anastasia released you enough to thread her arm through yours, unwilling to let go of you entirely, and you turned to look up at the much larger man.  “We had no idea this was possible, but I’m very glad that it was, that you’re here with us,” he continued, beaming down at you.

 

“You...you aren’t upset….?” you broached.  Miles shook his head. “You still...believe I’m me?  That I’m…” you trailed off as Ferra finally left the table and stalked up to you.  Her eyes were cold and her face set. Unfortunately, Anastasia held you in place, albeit subtly.  Many pairs of eyes followed the android until she came to a stop in front of you. You stared at each other in silence, you apprehensive and she unreadable.  The she spoke, arms crossed over her chest.

 

“What did I tell you about getting hurt!” she demanded.

 

“I...uh…. To -to not? Get hurt?” you answered, confused.

 

“No, I said getting hurt is part of life, but there’s no reason to bring in death early,” Ferra corrected you, face stoic.

 

“I’m sorry?  I...I didn’t mean for this to happen...didn’t mean to end up like this,” you said, deflating a little.

 

“Ann, let her go,” Ferra said.  Anastasia complied and took a step back towards Miles, leaving you to your fate.  Even Simon remained silent, watching from just beyond, a smile on his face. What the fuck was he smiling about?  Why wasn’t he doing anything? You looked back at Ferra, steeling yourself for whatever physical or verbal thing she was set to throw at you.  She walked until she was inches from you, eyes picking apart your very soul, seeing every flaw and weakness within you, and then she smiled.

 

“I’m glad you kicked death back out the door, I wouldn’t have wanted to try to kick it’s ass for taking you away,” she joked.  You noticed her eyes were turning glassy with unshed tears. “I can’t believe we almost lost you.” Then she was hugging you. “Don’t you ever do that again, do you hear me?”  You could only nod. “Good.”

 

When you were freed, you looked at Simon again. He looked pleased, proud even, and you smiled at him.  You didn’t need all of Haven to like you, or even accept you, you never did when you were human, you just needed to not be alone.  Humans have been referred to as pack animals, securing the idea that living creatures craved companionship in one way or another, so it was safe to assume that androids, awoken to their own lives driven by freewill, would also seek companionship.  The entirety of Haven could have turned on you right then, and as long as your friends were with you you felt that perhaps you would stand a chance. You needed this, the unabashed acceptance of who you were, without a second thought as to who you no longer were.  

 

For hours you sat with your friends, playing cards and answering and asking questions.  They wanted to know what happened, wanted to know how you felt in your new form. They offered suggestions and ideas to help you acclimate.  They, every single one of them could sense the rolling storm of depression that lay just under the surface within you, but you smiled at your friends, laughed with them, felt a peace inside you that Connor had been unable to provide.  Not for lack of trying, of course, but this was different. Being in Haven, with your friends, enveloped in bubble of warmth pulled you out of your head, giving you the space you needed to breathe. You learned that Miles had recently gotten a paid position in the children’s wing of the hospital not far from your own work.  He had been fighting for the opportunity to get back to what he loved and now that he had it you couldn’t have been more proud. Anastasia was applying to pastry shops and bakeries, but when you asked Ferra if there was anything she was looking into she just said it was a surprise.

 

After a time Simon informed you that he had to help Markus with something, but he would be back as soon as he could.  A balloon of panic welled inside you at his words, but Ferra assured you that you were going to be in good hands, and then she picked up Miles’s hands and shook them comically, saying, “look, they’re huge!”  The panic abated and you thanked Simon for helping you as much as he already had.

 

When Simon was gone, Anastasia suggested taking a walk, to try and find some of your other friends, and refamiliarize yourself with the facilities in the complex so you would know where to go if something ever happened to your body.  The way they said it was so casual, as if you had always had the body of an android, and it echoed oddly in your head, at war with the way you thought of it. For the time being, you filed it away, accepting their offer and the wave of comfort you felt at their inclusion.  

 

As you wandered the complex you were approached by a few different androids, ones you vaguely knew, who were curious enough to speak to you.  Mostly they were indifferent and didn’t stay long, but a couple of them were welcoming, offered their condolences and congratulations in the same sentence.  You could only blink, and thank them, unsure of what else you could possibly say to that. Your confusion seemed hilarious to Ferra, and even drew chuckles from the other two much to your exasperation.  On the bright side, the androids you assumed were unhappy with you or rather your existence seemed to be avoiding you. More than one android turned their back as you drew near, or moved completely out of the way, circumventing your group entirely.  You would be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. Rejection always hurt, but at least it was being done from afar.

 

Miles suggested the group stop at one of the technician rooms that you learned Carol would sometimes visit to lend aid with repairing androids.  Miles and Ferra stepped into the room first, seeing as there was another android being repaired at the moment, to speak to Carol and let her know you were outside.  You were talking to Anastasia, more relaxed than you’d felt in public in a long time, and then felt someone grab your forearm hard and yank you away from Anastasia. You yelped, the force of their grip enough to make your skin fade away and reveal the porcelain white of your android body underneath.  Immediately a panic set up in your mind, the rolling storm exploding forth as you tried to free yourself from the nearly damaging grip of the android.

 

“You’re disgusting, what gives you the right to call yourself an android?” the android sneered.  He was clearly furious, disgusted with you. You tugged futilely against his grip and Anastasia clawed at him to try to force him to release you, shouting at him.

 

“I don’t, I don’t call myself anything!” you cried out.  “Please, just let me go, I’ve done nothing!” The android’s grip tightened still and you felt the plastic of your forearm creak in protest.  He seemed unphased by Anastasia’s assault.

 

“Perhaps not yet, but there’s no reason to give you the chance.  What are you really?” he demanded. The few androids nearby were watching the scene unfold with bated breath.  Was no one going to help? Were you really that much of an abomination?

 

“I’m nothing!  Please, I’m nothing,” you sobbed. One of the other androids stepped towards the two of you, face set in determination fully intent on grabbing one of you, you weren’t sure who.  

 

“We’ll see about that,” spat the android holding onto you, and you watched in horror as the skin of his hand faded back.  You cried out, hand flying to your head as you felt something, someone, drive a drill into your mind. He was seeking information, trying to find your coding, to learn what you were.  It felt invasive, he was inside you, angry and unrelenting. You looked for your friends, for anyone to help, but you could barely make out all of the warnings your interface was throwing up at you, your vision darkening as you were forced to look inwards.  

 

 _Please_.

 

You begged; screaming it, thinking it,

 

_Stop, leave me alone!_

 

_GET OUT!_

 

The android didn’t listen, but you could feel his sneer, his contempt pouring over you like oil, worming its way into your system.  He wasn’t gentle in his search of your mind, tearing things up and tossing everything around, forcing his way deeper. You shook violently, pulling as hard as you could to try to free yourself of his grasp.  You saw the car racing towards you again. Saw your body on the gurney. Heard yourself scream, or was that you screaming right now. Every ounce of anger inside of the android threatened to drown you, it felt like it was wearing you down to a fragmented shell.  You pushed back, harder than before, kicking with your legs. It wasn’t right! What he was doing wasn’t right! You weren’t what he said you were!

 

You heard him laugh, the sound echoing in your mind at the futility of your actions, and he redoubled his efforts.  Everything you were he was trying to strip away, and it hurt. It hurt so much. You fought him until you had no fight left in you, until you felt the storm inside of you, the storm of emotions, of self doubt and worth, the pain you’d been working so hard to parse through and contain explode around you swallowing you whole like it had been waiting to do for weeks.  Nothing was private, nothing was yours, it was all being taken away from you, and the only thing you could think to do was give in. Give in to the storm, to the pain, give up. Just curl into the broken thing you were and wait until the android was done.

 

As your pain swallowed you, as the storm whipped itself into the frenzy you’d tried so hard to tame you felt the android recoil within you.  You didn’t want to feel him anymore, you wanted it to stop, so you sunk yourself deeper into the storm. He rammed the barrier of raw emotions, snarling with his anger and the storm gladly enveloped him, bearing down on him through the interface with the answer to his question, with what your existence really was.  Everything you had been trying to heal, to face, having been torn open by the violation of your mind, of your very being. You wanted to throw up, you wanted to claw the feeling of the other android out of you with your bare hands, let it and you bleed out on the floor.

 

Then suddenly you were alone again, your mind empty save for you and the lingering feeling of the android.  Your vision cleared, your senses coming back to the world around you. You were met with warning after warning of high stress levels, of an intrusion, of potential damage to your arm, all glaring at you from your interface.  The shaking of your vision came from the sobs wracking your frame. The interface flickered and faded when you turned your attention from it to the other android, standing doubled over a few feet from you. Your face was contorted in terror and pain and you scrambled backwards from him, holding your arm to your chest.  Anastasia caught you as your knees gave out and you fell to the floor, her arms offering small comfort in the wake of what you’d experienced. The other android was clutching his head and looking at you in horror. You noticed absentmindedly that there were tears running down his face. You didn’t want to see him crying, he didn’t deserve to cry, didn’t deserve to feel anything.  

 

“So much pain-” his voice crackled with static, and he shook.  His LED sensor was a solid red, his stress levels were bordering on ninety eight percent your interface told you.  You hoped he would self destruct. “How can one person hold that much inside of them?” His stress levels were at ninety nine percent.  “You should be dead-” a fist connected with his face and knocked him to the ground. It appeared as if the force of the hit and the android’s inability to handle the emotions he’d felt from you had forced him into standby mode.  Anastasia kept her arms around you as you looked up to see North standing over the now unconscious android. Rage radiated out of her like an almost tangible flame. Then she turned her gaze to each android who had stood and watched.

 

“Every. Single. One of you have been logged and will be forced to bear the weight of your inactions.  Now leave!” The androids scattered like mice and she turned to the one android who had stepped up to help Anastasia wrest the other android off of you.  “Take him to holding, make sure he doesn’t self destruct upon waking.” The android nodded and did as he was told. Then North turned to you, taking in the fear in your eyes, the way you shook in your friend’s arms, and her eyes softened.  Slowly she moved to kneel in front of you and picked up the arm that had been grabbed. Your skin was slowly returning to its rightful place, hiding the android underneath. She inspected you in silence before gently lowering your arm back down.

 

“Are you alright?” she asked softly, and you shook your head.

 

“He…..he-”  You shook your head again.

 

“He forced an interface with you,” North supplied and you nodded.  

 

“He wouldn’t let go, he wanted to know what I was, he was inside of me.  Oh god I could feel him picking around in my head!” You dry heaved, clutching your arms around your stomach in an attempt to hold yourself together.  

 

“Shh, shhhh, hey, look at me,” North said, placing her hand on the side of your face.  You looked up at her with eyes that wanted to cry and had no more tears. “You are going to be alright, ok?  You will be ok.” The way she said those words made it sound like there was no other outcome other than you being ok.  You nodded slowly, head jerking in sharp movements showing you had heard her. “No android should force another android to interface like that, ever.  What he did to you was unforgivable!”  She bit the last word off with such vehemence your mouth fell open, she had never really liked you much to begin with, but here she was now, offering you comfort.

 

Miles and Ferra left the room to see you in Anastasia’s arms with your face in North’s hands and you shaking like a leaf.  

 

“What happened to him when he tried to force his way through?” North asked.  “He looked like he was in pain.”

 

“Because I’m in pain,” you whispered.  “It swallowed him whole, everything, the entire storm.”  You weren’t making sense, you knew that, but how else could you explain what he’d come face to face with, what you lived with everyday.  Still, North nodded like she understood and dropped her hands from your face.

 

“I am so sorry, ____,” she said.  She looked sad almost, regret flickering across her face.

 

“It should have destroyed him,” you said vehemently, leaning into anger that at least filled you with something other than the cold abyss.  “Shouldn’t have let him go, you should have let him feel it all!” Your voice grew louder and you looked at North.

 

_He deserved to feel everything._

 

_He deserved to self destruct._

 

_He deserves every ounce of pain that-_

 

“If we let him die, then there would be no way to make sure the lesson of his actions spreads through our people,” North said calmly, the tone of her voice told you she much rather would have preferred to let him suffer.  You didn’t argue with her, only looked down at the floor, feeling the warmth of your anger fading already. She sighed

 

“I’ll call Connor.”  She stood up. You leapt after her, leaving Anastasia’s arms and to grabbing North’s sleeve.

 

“No! If you call him, he’s going to leave work, and he’s going to worry.  He’s going to blame himself for letting me go without him! Please, he does so much already it isn’t fair to him, it’s my fault, not his, he shouldn’t -” North cut off your panicked argument.

 

“This is _not_ your fault!”  She snapped and you flinched.  She took a deep breath. “What happened isn’t your fault, it isn’t Connor’s either, but I have half a mind to bring Simon up on negligence.  He was supposed to stay with you while you were here, not leave you alone!”

 

“Simon didn’t do anything wrong!  He had to go help Markus, and I wasn’t alone!  I was with my friends,” you gestured at Miles and Ferra, the former in a state of regret and the latter in a state of fury.  “What if he had been waiting for Simon to leave? For me to not be under the protection of one of you? You can’t blame Simon!” you begged North and she sighed.  

 

“Fine, but you can’t stop me from calling Connor either, he needs to know, and whether you will admit it or not, you need him here,” she said and you nodded, knowing that you really couldn’t stop her.  She ordered your friends to take you to one of the rooms upstairs where it was quiet as she called Connor. On the way up the stairs Anastasia, her arm around your shoulders, filled the other two in on what had happened; the entire incident had taken place in mere minutes. Ferra bent the metal railing under her hand in her anger and swore to RA9 and back that she was going to end that miserable whelps life. Miles on the other hand apologized profusely.  You just couldn’t respond, it felt like everything inside you had been torn away and rearranged and set loose, the memory of the forced interface making you flinch everytime it arose. You would say you felt empty, or that you felt nothing at all, but the truth was you just couldn’t process anything anymore.  For seconds at a time as you climbed the stairs you weren’t even sure if you were actually climbing stairs, or if you were elsewhere, if you were with people or if you were alone.

 

You were taken to what looked like an art studio, light filtered in from many large windows and paint splatters were everywhere.  It did little to calm your mind, but the brightness of the space served enough to orient you. Your friends sat with you, talking to fill the silence, and urging you to respond to them, and you tried, you really did, but you felt like all of your responses were hollow.  

 

That was where Connor found you, North at his side.  When you saw Connor you looked up at him with deadened eyes, meeting the worry in his own and felt something within you shatter.  

 

“I’m sorry,” you said, the first thing you’d said that held any emotion since the incident.  Everyone looked at you in shock, and nearly started clamoring that it wasn’t your fault, that nothing was.  All that is, except for North and Connor. North held a look of related sympathy on her face and Connor’s LED flickered yellow for a moment, receiving whatever message North had sent him.  

 

Slowly he walked over to where you sat on the ground, and as if by silent command, your friends stood up to leave, followed by North.  Connor sat down behind you and pulled you back against his chest, wrapping his arms around you and holding you as close and as tight as he could.  

 

“None of this was your fault, you did nothing to deserve this,” his face was calmer than his voice, yet you didn’t respond, just trembled in his arms.  “Oh, ____,” he whispered, turning you in his lap enough that he could see the tears you were silently crying. He wiped your tears away gently, cupping your cheek in his hand.  “No one blames you for what happened, no one thinks of you any less because of it.” You looked away from Connor’s imploring eyes. His thumb caught another stray tear and he kissed your cheek, removing his hand.  You looked back at him, eyes unsure.

 

“Can I show you something?” he asked, knowing he was taking a risk.  You nodded slowly. Connor lifted his hand and let the skin around it to fade back.  You stared at it and then back at him, your breathing escalating. “I just want to show you something, I am not going to force anything.  I want to show you something of me,” he said. He noted the terror in your eyes, fearing he had already pushed too far. “It’s ok, ____, you don’t have to.”  He wavered for a moment, wishing you would trust him, and understanding why you might not. Then you lifted your own hand, shaking, and slowly brought it to rest in his.

 

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, voice tight.  You refused to look at him.

 

“Focus on me, it will come to you,” he supplied and you took a shuddering breath.  Slowly, painfully slowly you felt the skin on your hand fade back, the site of your true body making you shake harder, but as soon as it came into contact with Connor’s you froze.  

 

You could feel him, as if he were right there. There was nothing intrusive about what you felt right now, just him, _all_ of him so close.  You heard him ask you to trust him, but you weren’t sure if that was in your head or out loud, so all you could do was nod.

 

_Don’t push, please don’t push._

 

_Can’t do that again._

 

_Too much, please._

 

**_I won’t._ **

 

That had been Connor, his voice soothing your panicked thoughts as something warm seemed to radiate off of him, or from him.  You weren’t sure. He had said he wanted to show you something, but you were terrified. Then there was something else, soothing, a promise, warmth, home, safety.  These feelings washed over you and you subconsciously gripped Connor’s hand tighter, leaning into his chest where his other arm wrapped around your waist and held you close.  You closed your eyes, sinking yourself into those feelings, into the shelter you were being offered. Connor’s lips pressed against your forehead, and you heard him whisper something to you that you couldn’t quite make out, but made the feelings washing over you bloom with colors and light.  

 

This was his promise.  

 

This was his confession.

 

**_I love you._ **

 

You stopped breathing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com) OR at my new writing blog [Viv Writes](https://vividlywriting.tumblr.com) where I will answer asks about my writing and even take some prompts.
> 
> And if you like this story, I have a series of oneshots I've been working on! [More Than My Programming](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053845) And I've got a couple more things to go in there soon, so keep an eye out!
> 
>  
> 
> Last but not least, a long standing shout out to my friend, my beta reader, and the person with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda)
> 
>  


	10. Butterflies and Apologies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’m sorry."
> 
>  
> 
> You shook your head. How did you deserve him?
> 
>  
> 
> "I only wanted to show you. I wanted you to know what I -"
> 
>  
> 
> You shook your head again, eyes still screwed shut. 
> 
>  
> 
> "I can’t...."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys make my whole day, week, just aaaaa i love you guys. your reactions and responses to this fic is such a big part in the way this fic is growing. There are parts i never thought I'd explore or leave in, but im so glad i did!
> 
> Thank you all!
> 
> Now let me say this though. Markus is extra af and you can't convince me otherwise.

**_I love you._ **

 

_ I love you I love you I love you I love you I love you I - _

 

His words echoed in your head like a mirrored cavern. You could feel them reverberate through your entire being.  The true depth of the emotion that those three words alone could never really express coursed through you.

 

_ IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou- _

 

You weren’t breathing, weren’t moving, unsure if you were even present in your own body at the moment.  Bright and colorful, emotions and ideas incarnate wrapped themselves around you. They were soft, and warm.  They promised home, and peace, and safety. 

 

Still you didn’t breathe.  

 

Connor had offered you shelter, baring all that he was to you, what he felt, and when you’d accepted he’d given you everything.  

 

You were engulfed but you didn’t feel claustrophobic.  You weren’t even sure who, or what you were, but you didn’t feel alone.  This was the farthest from feeling from alone than you’d had your entire life.  Each particle that comprised your being, every abstract thought that formed the foundation of your existence, always you, never quite coming in contact with anything else, kept apart by the smallest separation of atoms, and you weren’t alone.

 

Did you laugh?  Should you cry? Oh you were so tired of crying.  You didn’t know what reaction was supposed to come from you at this.  Joy? Relief? A sense of irony at the timing of the whole thing? Love?

 

_ Why? _

 

You filled your lungs with a shaky breath.  You could feel Connor startle at the question, a ripple of surprise that almost tasted like the cool gray of a skipping stone, dim and almost sad, brushed against you.  You held Connor’s hand tighter, unwilling to let it go, let these feelings go. Unwilling to let him go. He tightened his arm around your waist and brought his head down to rest his forehead against your temple.  

 

_ After everything, how do I deserve you?   _

 

Connor wanted to show you everything, he wanted to widen the connection you’d trusted him enough to form and show you exactly why you deserved him, but he couldn’t risk pushing you too far so soon.  So he settled for this:

 

You felt what you swore was a smile, laughter, light and warm.  Acceptance, a cool breeze against skin that was too hot. Colors that trailed emotions.  Happiness, excitement, exasperation, mirth, faith, pain, and more that you could barely put names to, they brushed past you so quickly.  A kiss that sent an electrical storm through your body and left you feeling like you were surrounded by sunlight. Whispered words you couldn’t hear and expressions you couldn’t see, touches you couldn’t feel, all flitting past you like dragonflies made of raindrops, leaving faint trails that hinted at the heavy clouds somewhere farther up.  You felt the weight of a night that never seemed to end, felt the spark of the match that transformed the empty dark into a galaxy that spun freely around you. You felt wanted, needed. You felt want and need. You felt home, cradled it in your hands, felt such an urge to protect it and help it grow and blossom and then felt it ripped away from you.  Darkness plummeted around you as you reached for that feeling, for the light, as you chased it, catching it just as the dark wrapped itself around you. Hope tasted like vanilla, subtle and wonderful. Love tasted like -

 

You started to shake again, your hand trembled in his.  It was so much, every feeling he showed you you knew was only a ghost of what he wanted to show you.  You could feel how much he wanted to show you everything, and how he’d settled for the surface. It was just, so much.  It was almost too much. How could you ever compare to him? How could your feelings ever measure up to his? 

 

Everything stopped.  The overwhelming emotions you’d felt abating, leaving only the previous calm and warmth from before.  

 

**I’m sorry.**

 

You shook your head.  How did you deserve him?

 

**I only wanted to show you.  I wanted you to know what I -**

 

You shook your head again, eyes still screwed shut.  

 

_ I can’t.... _

 

You felt the pang of regret that stabbed through the warmth, felt Connor start to pull away.

 

_ NO!  Please...Connor please…” _

 

You gripped his hand harder, trying to get what you wanted across.  He stilled, uncertainty sending shadows against the light you were trying so desperately to hold on to.

 

_ I can’t… _

 

_ I can’t show you… _

 

_ Please don’t let go. _

 

_ I can’t show you what I want… _

 

_ I can’t open that door right now. _

 

_ Just please don’t let go.   _

 

The shadows dissipated, and you knew without him saying it out loud that he understood.  He would wait, even if you could never open that door, he would still be there, he wasn’t going to let go.

 

Your relief hit Connor like a truck.  It wasn’t like he couldn’t feel you at all through the interface, he’d felt your acceptance, your gratefulness.  He’d felt you relax, and then your pain. Your wonder and panic. Even your fear at times. Yet everything he felt from you had been muted, a shadow against the wall you kept yourself safely behind.  

 

But when his promise had washed over you, soothing your worry with the knowledge that he wasn’t going anywhere, you had relaxed, the wall you hid behind thinning just enough to floor him with how strong your emotions really were.  

 

Relief that he would wait.  Confusion as to how he could love you so much.  Worry that you could somehow let him down. Everything riding on a current of something so dark he felt his stomach drop.  And there, in the middle of everything, love. You didn’t say the words, you weren’t even aware that the emotions were escaping into the interface, but he felt it all the same.  Tentative and rolling, like a swarm of butterflies that just grew and grew in number until they covered everything, stirring the air with their wings, fleeting and fragile, but there all the same.  

 

“I’m going to pull away now,” Connor said softly, warning you aloud that he was going to end the interface.  He watched as you frowned, and kissed your temple. Gently he pulled himself back, gradually unwrapping you from himself, and let his skin cover his hand again.  The second you no longer felt him your skin raced to cover your own hand.

 

For a moment you felt utterly alone.  The absence of the connection you’d had with Connor only soothed by the fact that he was still holding you there on the studio floor.  He gave you as much time as you needed to come back to yourself, and you took it, greedily holding onto what he had given you as a way to shield yourself from what had been taken from you on the lower floor.  You couldn’t hide from it forever, you knew that, and if you tried you had a feeling it was going to show itself in the ugliest way possible.

 

You also knew, inexplicably, without a shadow of any doubt, that you didn’t have to face it alone.  You didn’t have to face anything alone, if you only asked.

  
  


Connor waited with you until you were ready to go, and it took a while.  Even knowing that the android who had assaulted you was locked up didn’t stop you from worrying what everyone else might think of you now.  You couldn’t stay holed up in this studio forever though.

 

Once downstairs you noticed that everyone was going about their lives as if nothing had happened.  It made your lips curl.

 

_ How insignificant am I? _

 

Your sneer fell away to pained acceptance.

 

_ How insignificant I am. _

 

You shook the thoughts from your head as best you could and tapped the back of Connor’s knuckles with your finger from where your hands were intertwined.  He reciprocated the action and you breathed slowly. He was right there, he wasn’t going anywhere. As you rounded the corner from the stairwell you heard someone call your name.  You looked around, eyes zeroing in on Miles first, it was hard to miss him, and then flitting to take in the sight of the other’s who had leapt up to stand with him. Ferra was there, concerned, Miles and Anastasia looked pained, and then you saw Simon, guilt etched deep into his face.  

 

_ They look like this because of me. _

 

_ They care about you. _

 

_ It wasn’t their fault. _

 

_ Would you act any different? _

 

_ … _

 

_ No. _

  
  


You walked towards them, startling Connor with your sudden action when he was tugged along after you.  Your friends stood in place as you approached them, your footsteps slowing the closer you got until you came to a stop feet from them.  None of them looked like they knew what to say, then again, you didn’t know what to say. Everything that had happened in the past couple of hours was burned into you, and like a burn it ached, pain flaring up at any moment for no reason whatsoever.

 

Simon was the first to step forward, a tentative step.  His brow was knit in what looked like a cross between sadness and plain stress.

 

“____, I -”  You cut him off, surprising both you and him when you slipped your hand from Connor’s and stepped forward to hug Simon.  He immediately stopped talking and sighed, returning your embrace. 

 

_ They care. _

 

_ Don’t run from them. _

 

_ I’m allowed to need help. _

 

_ I’m allowed to want my friends. _

 

_ Right? _

 

_ This wasn’t their fault. _

 

_ Don’t take anything out on them. _

 

_ I can’t stop from being angry. _

 

_ Can’t stop from being upset. _

 

_ No one’s asking you to. _

 

“I’m so sorry,” Simon said.  You could hear the pain in his voice, he really did blame himself.  “I promised I’d be with you the whole time you were here and I wasn’t.”  A scowl soured your face and you hugged Simon tighter to get him to shut up.

 

“If you start blaming yourself I’m going to ask Ferra to kick your ass,” you swore.  He didn’t respond to that, but Ferra did.

 

“I’ll do it too!”  

 

You pulled back from Simon and squinted at him.  The corner of his mouth twitched, trying to form a smile.

 

“Alright,” he said.  That seemed to break the ice because your friends swarmed you, apologizing, asking if you were going to be alright, asking what they could do for you.  Connor had moved over to join you, staying close enough that you could easily reach him, but far enough to give your friends the space they needed to check on you. Your only request for your friends was to be patient with you.  Of course they agreed to that immediately. 

 

You left for home soon after, stopping briefly when North caught you to see how you were, something that surprised you incredibly, a second time because Carol, your assigned technician ran out of her workroom to make sure you and your arm were ok, and a third time when Markus stopped you before you’d left Haven entirely.  Markus’s manner of stopping you was to see you leaving from a story above you, climbing down from the ledge, and then riding the fire escape ladder down to meet you.

 

It was one thing to talk to your other friends about what had happened, however vaguely that was, but it was another to be face to face with the leader of all androids and be afraid to say anything.  You didn’t want special treatment because Markus was your friend. 

 

You needn't have worried though; Markus inquired to your well being, and apologized for what happened.  As a friend he told you he would always be there if you needed anything, and as a leader he swore that he would do what he could to make sure this didn’t happen again, to you or anyone else.  You knew his hands were tied, that he wanted to do more, and that he was doing all he could. Markus did ask, before you left, if you would return to Haven in the future.

 

Your first answer was silence.  You truly didn’t know how to answer that question.  On the one hand, you had an unpurgeable traumatic memory associated with the place now, on the other you didn’t want to keep hiding from everything and everyone either.  So eventually you said you would return. You couldn’t attest to how you would react next time you were here, but you knew you didn’t have to be alone whenever you faced it.

 

Connor stayed with you as long as he could for many days, more determined to be there with you than you were to make him stay.  He did leave for work, and eventually returned to his home at your behest, but his presence was calming. With Connor near you, it was easier to recall the warm shelter his love had provided you when the pain of the assault flared up.  He also made sure that the next time you returned to Haven, a couple of days after your first visit, that he was able to go with you. 

 

It was hard going back, for entirely different reasons than it was to go in the first place.  You were hyper aware the entire time you were there, searching every face you saw for the android that had attacked you.  It wasn’t like he was a wholly unique model like Connor or Markus, so the first time you saw the same model as your attacker you’d begun to panic.  Before you were able to settle into a full blown panic attack, your interface flared to life and scanned the android you had been staring at. 

 

Was this the one who had attacked you?

 

No, it was not.  Red lit up on your interface, the words “No Match” glaring at you dead on.  It was the first time you were grateful to have it. 

 

Time and again you read the words “No Match”, each one lulling you into a sense of security that was stripped away the next time you thought you’d seen the android.  You didn’t see him the entire day, no matter where you went in Haven. You didn’t see him the next time either, or the time after that. You had no idea what happened to that particular android, but after about two weeks straight of visiting Haven, you stopped scanning faces.

 

The next you visited Dr. Leland you weren’t even sure how to tell her about what happened.  It wasn’t like you had been thrown to the ground and assaulted, raped. So was it even fair for you to have reacted like you did?  Was it fair that it still bothered you? 

 

Your friends told you yes.  

 

But the only friends you’d spoken to recently were all androids.

 

How would a human react to what had happened to you?

 

“Your experiences are no less valid than anyone else’s,” Dr. Leland told you gently.  “It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t ask for this. Nothing you’ve done or could have ever done would ever warrant such an invasion.”  

 

The session was probably one of the hardest you’d had with her since you first started seeing Dr. Leland, and not once did she give you any reason to think that your emotions, reactions, the trauma, wasn’t real, wasn’t valid.  It wasn’t a pissing contest of who had the worse experiences in life. 

 

So you went back to Haven, facing what happened each time and slowly finding a place of acceptance as the more you were there, the less you felt the stares and side glances of the androids that lived there.  Even if you wouldn’t go anywhere alone within Haven for a long while, you at least had somewhere to go.

 

But what did that mean about your life in the human world?

 

Your boss and coworkers hadn’t forgotten about you, and as your leave came to a close they inquired eagerly as to when you would be returning to work.  At first you only gave them vague answers: “Soon.” “I’ll keep you posted.” Things like that. Until your last day of leave arrived and you were staring at your hands in Haven, seated on the floor and exuding despondency.  

 

_ Do I lie? _

 

_ Would they find out otherwise? _

 

_ Should I even go back? _

 

_ Do I want to go back? _

 

_ I want to go back. _

 

_ I miss work, I miss them. _

 

_ What if they find out about what I am and fire me? _

 

_ There are no laws protecting me from that. _

 

_ Miles just got a job, maybe I could beg to keep mine. _

 

You’d stopped worrying about if you could do your job, having spent a few afternoons in the past weeks with Anastasia refamiliarizing yourself with your joy of baking to help with a fundraiser that Anastasia had gotten roped into.  No, that wasn’t what worried you now.

 

_ What if I’m only keeping someone else from a job they need to feed themselves or their family now that I’m no longer human? _

 

You sighed and put your head in your hands, ignoring the look of concern that Anastasia cast you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com) OR at my new writing blog [Viv Writes](https://vividlywriting.tumblr.com) where I will answer asks about my writing and even take some prompts.
> 
> And if you like this story, I have a series of oneshots I've been working on! [More Than My Programming](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053845) And I've got a couple more things to go in there soon, so keep an eye out!
> 
>  
> 
> Last but not least, a long standing shout out to my friend, my beta reader, and the person with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda)
> 
> And also to my friend  
> Em who has been incredibly patient and supportive in this and is an amazing author!


	11. Night and Dough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re back! I knew it!” he shouted, hopping the counter just like he shouldn’t and rushed you. You chuckled and returned his hug. “Thank the gods you’re back! Marissa’s been a nightmare with you gone,” he said after he’d stepped back. You followed him back into the kitchen, swallowing past the lump in your throat.
> 
>  
> 
> “Has she really?” you asked, looking around for your apron. There it was, on the hook, clean too, except for the burn mark you’d gotten your first week working at the bakery. 
> 
>  
> 
> “Nah, but you know no one can make the special orders quite like you,” Trey praised. You smiled to yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I ever tell you guys how much I dislike moving? The packing and unpacking parts specifically? No? Well now you know. heheheh 
> 
> Anyway, who's ready to meet a few new characters and see how Reader handles going back to work? I'm excited for the growth she's made, though I have to be honest, these guys just end up writing themselves. I can't tell you how many times I've had to rearrange my outline to accommodate them, but to be honest I don't really mind. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy the chapter! Let me know what you think of it and the new guys, I'm stoked to hear your thoughts!
> 
> On a side note, a friend of mine started writing her own DBH fic, you'll find her link in the end notes, and she's got a playlist built/being built for her fic. I make playlists like a loon just for fun, so if you guys would like to know what songs I associate with this fic let me know, I'll share them next time!

The door chimed when you walked into Luna Bakery.  You were nearly an hour early and you could smell the first batch of Monkey Bread from down the street.  You hesitated just inside the door. The smell of the fresh breads and muffins, the cakes currently in the oven, and the subtle scent of chocolate washed over you and pulled at your lips to form a smile you couldn’t keep in place for more than a second.  

 

“One moment!” someone shouted from the kitchen and you took a steadying breath.  You listened to the sound of someone closing an oven door and the ticking of a manual timer being set and then the sound of hurried footsteps.  Trey stopped when he saw who was at the door and then broke out into a toothy grin.

 

“You’re back!  I knew it!” he shouted, hopping the counter just like he shouldn’t and rushed you.  You chuckled and returned his hug. “Thank the gods you’re back! Marissa’s been a nightmare with you gone,” he said after he’d stepped back.  You followed him back into the kitchen, swallowing past the lump in your throat.

 

“Has she really?” you asked, looking around for your apron.  There it was, on the hook, clean too, except for the burn mark you’d gotten your first week working at the bakery.  

 

“Nah, but you know no one can make the special orders quite like you,” Trey praised.  You smiled to yourself. 

 

“Well then, I guess I better get started then shouldn’t I?” you teased, walking over to the sink to clean your hands before going to the order’s list.  It was easy slipping back into yourself here at the bakery, you’d forgotten how easy it was.

  
  


For about an hour and a half you worked steadily with Trey, mixing batter and filling ovens.  Then you scrubbed down the counters and started mixing the things you needed to set aside to proof.

 

“You never told us what happened exactly,” Trey said, breaking your comfortable bubble of work.  You glanced at him as he leaned against the sink scrubbing one of the mixing bowls. “All you said was that you were in a really bad accident, but you look fantastic.  I can’t quite put my finger on it, but you look different almost.” Rather than answer him right away you chewed your lip in concentration, focusing instead on the dough before you, sectioning it off to be wrapped up.  When that was done you checked the timers and started grabbing ingredients for fillings. 

 

“You ok?  You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Trey said.  You knew he wanted to know what happened, and you knew this wasn’t going to be the last you heard about it.  So instead you changed topics entirely.

 

“Hey, do you know if Marissa is still looking for someone to help pick up the opening shifts?” you asked.  You checked the heat of the stove and pulled out one of the large industrial sized pots.

 

“Oh!  Yea, about that, she tried someone for it recently.”  The tone of his voice made it sound like whoever it was had been a total bust.

 

“And?”

 

“And, besides eating more than they sold, they never even opened on time.  Plus! Get this! They burned the entire order of tarts for that book club down the road.  TWICE!” Trey splashed some soap when he threw the sponge down into the bowl in frustration.  “It’s not that hard,” he whined. You chuckled and shook your head, eyes wide in mock horror. 

 

“Wow,” you sympathized.

 

“Wow is right!  But hey, why do you ask?”  Trey started rinsing off the bowl, so you waited till he was done.

 

“I’ve got a friend who’s been looking for a job, she’s really good.”  The least you could do for your friend was to help her get a job doing what she loved, especially somewhere that, you hoped, would be free of bias.  Besides, if she got hired you would be able to work with her, and maybe keep working with her here if your coworkers found you out.

 

“She’ll be in soon, you should ask her, I know I’m sure fuckin tired of opening.”

  
  


You were in the middle of filling puff pastries when Marissa walked in and your stomach dropped all over again.  She was an older woman, like a fun aunt that would sooner talk shit than accept her employees being treated bad by customers.  Oh, she was always professional, but she was professional in a way that could give a fae creature a run for its money. She was overjoyed to see you, and much to your relief she didn’t ask many questions beyond a brief inquiry as to your current health.  

 

_ This is ok. _

 

_ Heh, this is fine! _

 

_ So then why do you feel so guilty? _

 

You pushed your thoughts away and focused on your task, determined to do it right, to do it as close to perfect as you could.

 

_ Don’t give them a reason to question you. _

 

_ Don’t give them a reason to want to get rid of you. _

 

The rest of your shift was spent doing every task you could as thoroughly as possible with nerves as taught as a bow string.  Then it was over and you were home free. It had all gone over without any problems, and no one suspected anything. You’d managed to act normal, so you thought at least.

 

“____?”  You stopped dead in your tracks at the sound of your name from Marissa’s office.  Then you plastered a smile on your face and turned to walk in to see what was up.

 

“Hey, what’s up?”  

 

“Are you feeling alright?” Marissa asked, looking up from the inventory lists she’d been working through.

 

“Yea, why?”

  
  
“You didn’t eat lunch, dear,” she said. 

 

“Shit.”

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing, I just forgot, wasn’t hungry is all,” you said with a shrug.  That technically wasn’t a lie after all. She looked you over for a minute.  Did you look nervous? Was it obvious? It was probably pretty obvious.

 

“Alright, well take care on your way home, ok?  We’ll see you tomorrow,” Marissa said. You returned her smile and told her you would see her tomorrow.  Then you stopped, spun on your heel and leaned back into her office from around the door frame.

 

“By the way, would you consider hiring an android?”  you asked. Your fingers drummed on the door jam with pent up anxiety.

 

“Yes, why?  Do you know one that knows how to bake?”  Now she was looking at you curiously.

 

“I know a couple actually, one of which has been looking for a job.”  Your thirium pump sped up and you couldn’t stop the stressed grin at the accidental slip up.  “Should I send her over?” Marissa narrowed her eyes for a moment, trying to pick out what was wrong and then she sighed.

 

“Yes, actually, if you could that would be great.  We’re getting close to the holidays and we really need all the help we can get.”  

 

You barely kept yourself in check. That was good, that was wonderful.  If they needed the man hours then even if they wanted to turn you away they probably wouldn’t, and if she was willing to hire an android then maybe you could stay anyway!  You knocked on the door jam a couple times in rapid succession as you nodded, looking like you were processing what she’d said as opposed to really being overloaded with hope.

 

“You got it, boss!  See you tomorrow!” You ran out before she could call you back a second time, barely missing Trey as he slipped back into the building to pick up something he’d forgotten.

 

You were well on your way when Trey stepped into Marissa’s office.

 

“Did she tell you?” he asked, shoving his forgotten phone into his pocket.  Marissa shook her head. “Should we just tell her that we know?” Marissa shook her head again.

 

“Ms. Chloe was right, she needs to bring this up herself.  She needs to trust us to not turn on her right away.” The older woman sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

 

“Oh come on, Marissa, you saw how she acted today!  She acted like a newby frightened of losing their job.  I’ve never seen her do so much extra work since I started here!”  Trey crossed his arms and frowned. “Are you really gonna hire her android friend?”

 

“That depends, if they pass the checks and prove they know what they are doing and can follow directions, then yes.  We haven't had any decent applications in a while and we really do need the help.” Marissa closed the tablet that held the inventory list on it and took her glasses off.  “Just don’t push her, Trey.”   
  
“You know I won’t,” he said, offended.  Marissa just leveled a deadpan look at the younger man.  “WHAT? I won’t! Swear!” Marissa rolled her eyes, but offered a smile to placate Trey anyway.

 

“Has Robin arrived yet? Or are they late again?”  The chime of the door answered her question before Trey could.  “Alright, bring them in so we can go over this one more time.”

  
  


You paced your apartment for hours that night, unable to sit still and do much of anything.  Without sleep you had already run out of things you wanted to do, if you even had the mental energy to do anything.  You just didn’t see the point of asking Connor how to trigger the sleep mode in your new body. When he’d explained it, he’d likened it to always having a little awareness of the world around you but not of the passage of time.  You didn’t like the prospect of being aware of nothingness. It terrified you. Despite Connor suggesting your try it for only an hour or two to rest your systems, you refused. You knew you could survive without it, so you just told him no and he’d dropped it.  Even Carol had suggested giving it a shot, and you weren’t stupid, you knew the level of stress you’d been under since the accident, grown after the attack at Haven, was going to wear you down, slow you down, but when faced with an awareness of nothingness? No, you weren’t ready for that.

 

So you took a walk. Almost no one was out and you kept to paths you trusted.  You almost walked to Haven, thinking quite a few of the residents would also be awake, but you couldn’t get your feet to take you there.  In the day time you could see everything, you had your friends, and the light offered comforting lies of safety. When you thought about going there at night, with the darkness, all you saw was the look of hatred, and all you felt was fear as you were pulled apart for scrutiny.  The dark didn’t lie, it offered you no false security. You loved the night and always had; it was different, honest and open, but you were well aware of its harsh nature. It knew you and it knew your fear, but it also knew your hopes and if you handled it just right it could be a friend.  

 

Going to Haven at night would only turn you against yourself and you weren’t sure if you could walk away from it in one piece. You could barely handle it in the light, and were barely holding yourself together as it was.  So you turned from the direction of Haven and walked until you found a park with a swing set, and that was where you stayed for hours. You felt at peace there. There, the night was a friend, the dark offered calm, and you felt the band in your chest ease. 

 

Swinging back and forth, high and higher, the cool air forewarning you of the changing seasons, you didn’t have to pretend.  You wondered, often as you had when you’d done this as a human, what would happen if you let go at the peak of your swing. What if you flew away?  What if the world around you was only a illusion and you could unravel it by breaking through the fabric of it all? What if all the lights in the city suddenly flickered out and you could see the stars above?  Was anything real at night? Which was more accurate, the day or the night? Danger lived in both, and was always more warned about at night, but here you didn’t have to hide. 

 

You smiled as you felt the excitement of the unknown, the fantastic and the teasing of a mind given a canvas to explore.  You felt familiarity there as you swung, nostalgia, relief. It didn’t matter who or what you were in that moment. 

 

Your smile strained and then fell.  What was keeping you from feeling that way all the time?  You laughed out loud, strained, the band in your chest easing some more.  You didn’t know. 

 

There in the dark, with the closest street light still too far to properly illuminate the park you stilled your legs and let your swing slow to a more reasonable pace before using your legs to keep the pace going.  You hooked one of your arms around the chain of the swing, using your elbow to hold on and raised your hand. Breathing slowly, holding tight to the feeling of possibility inside you, you looked down at your hand and watched as your skin peeled back from your fingers.  It stopped halfway down your fingers, revealing the pure white of your...body underneath.

 

_ My body. _

 

The thought startled you and your brow furrowed as you continued to stare.

 

_ Can’t believe I just said that. _

 

_ But this is me. _

 

And thinking that, seeing your body, you weren’t afraid.

 

Slowly you dropped your hand to your lap, the swing slowing more as you forgot to kick your legs.  

 

_ Huh. _

  
  


When you arrived at work the next day it was odd, you felt odd.  With the daylight came the familiar stress, but there was something else, a low undercurrent of faint relief leftover from the night’s embrace.  You met Trey at the door to start getting the bakery ready to open, and the smile he gave you, despite the tiredness you saw in his face, was easier to return than the day before.  He made a joke about you being a morning person, and you made a joke about him just needing more coffee. You still felt a twinge of panic that he might figure out something was different with you, but it faded as the morning went on.  

 

“Hey!  You heard this one?” Trey asked, setting up the speakers in the bakery and turning on a playlist he’d been making.  You laughed, getting the first loaves of the day into the oven.

 

“Yes, Trey, everyone’s heard that, it’s a classic!”  To emphasize your point you started singing along with the song and making a face at your friend.

 

“Hey don’t judge!”  

 

You worked companionably with Trey, agreeing wholeheartedly to keep things going in the kitchen while he handled the customers out front.  It wasn’t like you worked faster than you had before you’d gotten your new body, your mind still sent messages to your body and muscle memory was surprisingly mostly just memory, but you were happy.  When was the last time you could say you were happy? You didn’t know, but working, creating, hearing the customers out in the front of the shop talking excitedly about the different goods on display, it was a good feeling to say the least.

 

Shortly before lunch Marissa arrived, and when lunch rolled around you excused yourself to go “eat” and left to go meet up with Anastasia.  You wanted to try to remember to take lunch breaks to avoid suspicion. At least today you actually had something to do. The harder part was to make sure you took the entire lunch break and not show back up half an hour early.  Anastasia spent the rest of the break soothing your nerves. No they weren’t going to suddenly know you were an android the second you walked in with an actual one. Yes she was going to back you up if something happened. Of course you looked fine, please stop worrying you’re going to be alright and in we go!   
  
You entered the bakery with Anastasia at your back and immediately came face to face with Marissa.

 

“Oh hello!  ____, is this your friend?” Marissa asked, walking out from behind the counter to shake Anastasia’s hand.  You nodded and then cleared your throat when your friend nudged you with her foot.

 

“Yea, this is Anastasia!” you said a little too loudly.  “Marissa, Ann, Ann, Marissa. She used to work in a bakery before, well, you know.”  You laughed dryly and looked from one woman to the other, both who were looking at you with varied levels of concern.

 

“Why don’t you join me in my office, Anastasia,” Marissa said, pointing towards her office.  “____, are you alright handling the front until Trey gets back? He’s running a little late.”  You nodded and moved to clock back in. As Anastasia walked past you you heard her tell Marissa she could call her Ann and you gave her a thumbs up and a large grin.  

 

Then she was gone and you were stuck waiting for customers.  Which would become the most human interaction you’d had in a long while.

 

_ Oh fuck. _

 

You swallowed and took a deep breath. This was fine.  No sooner had you thought that a young woman walked in to look at the display of pastries.  

 

In her office, Marissa sat behind her desk across from Anastasia.  She liked the look of the woman sat before her, and it was clear she cared about you.  There were no doubts on her skills either, not if she had been programmed to do this very job.  Honestly, the interview was a mere formality, it was the personality she was most interested in now.  Marissa steepled her fingers, her elbows resting on her desk, and looked the android over. Anastasia watched Marissa with equal interest, they were sizing each other up it seemed, but there was a hint of nerves in Ann and Marissa smiled.  So human. 

 

The older woman straightened the ponytail containing her mass of curly hair and dropped her hands to her desk, folding her arms in front of her.

 

“How long have you known ____?” she asked Ann.

 

“One year, five months, and four days, give or take,” Ann responded, her exact answer coming out a little cheeky.  Marissa chuckled.

 

“Yes, alright, and how long have you known about her new body?”  Marissa’s eyes crinkled in amusement at the spluttering that escaped Anastasia in response to the question.

 

“You  _ know?” _

  
  


You helped four different customers while Ann went through her interview, each one leaving you more confident than the last.  One of the customers had been a regular that was overjoyed to see you back at the bakery. Not one of them had noticed anything off about you.  It left you grinning, and that was how Marissa and Anastasia found you; grinning and talking easily with what looked like a teenager and his little brother.

 

“Do you want those in a bag?” you asked the older of the two, boxing up their purchase.

 

“Yea, that’d be great!  Thanks!” he said. The younger boy had his face plastered to the display, eyeing all of the cakes and tarts he could see.  “Oh for crying-, Lance would you stop that? You’re getting it covered in your snot, blow your nose!” Lance acted like he hadn’t heard his brother and just kept looking. 

 

“Don’t worry about it, happens all the time,” you told Lance’s brother, handing him the bag.  “Glass exists for a reason you know! Enjoy! I hope you come back soon.” The two boys returned your farewell and your smile.  When they were out of sight you sighed and fished out the glass cleaner and a rag. Sure glass was made for a reason, but you highly doubted it was to get covered in boogers.  As you turned around you spotted Ann and Marissa standing just outside her office.

 

It took you only a few seconds to catch the grin on Ann’s face and the raised eyebrows and knowing expression on Marissa’s face to know that Ann had gotten the job.  You shouted in joy and rushed over to hug your friend, cleaner still held firmly in hand. She started work in a week, and Marissa was having her start with you and Trey in the morning to learn the ropes, and then a few shifts with her and Robin in the afternoon to learn how to close up the shop.  After that the schedule would be able to properly rotate between the shifts. You told Ann you would join her when you got off to celebrate and then spent the following ten minutes thanking Marissa for giving your friend a chance. All Marissa said on the matter was that she felt Anastasia was a good fit for the family.  It made Ann blush.

 

You were ecstatic knowing Anastasia was going to be joining you at the bakery!  It carried you through the next couple of days of work. Nights you spent with Connor or at the park, and the days you spent at work, leaving smelling like cakes and fresh bread, something Connor said he had missed.  Then you arrived at the bakery to help Trey open as usual only for Robin to enter the kitchen instead. 

 

You hadn’t seen Robin since being back at work, it brought back all of your anxiety and fear.

 

“Oh hey Robin!” you said, voice a little tense.  “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but where’s Trey?”  Robin looked you over for a moment, exhaustion written on their face as if it had been tattooed there. 

 

“People with energy in the morning are the devil,” they said grumpily and put on their apron.  When they turned back to you, you had gone back to loading the muffins into the oven, eyes wide.

 

_ Shit. _

 

_ Don’t panic. _

 

_ It’ll be fine… _

 

You heard Robin sigh.  “Trey had something come up last night with his dog, he needed to take her to the vet this morning so we switched shifts.”

 

“Oh no!  Is Missy ok??” you asked, looking at your coworker.

 

“Yea, she’s fine.  Trey isn’t worried, he thinks she’s constipated, but you know Missy,” Robin said with a shrug, going over to the coffee pot.

 

“She milks any problem she has for all she’s got.”  You laughed and Robin nodded.

 

“Exactly.  Anyway yea, guess you’re stuck with me, bummer.”  

 

You spun towards Robin, a protest at your lips.

 

“I’m kidding, you need to learn to relax, you’ll give me wrinkles before I’m thirty.”

 

Silence stretched between the two of you.  Then you threw a spoon at them.

 

“Fuck you, Robin!” you groaned.

 

“Did you ask Connor?”

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake, would you just get the damn loaves in the oven?!”  Still, you were laughing, and Robin was smiling, though it looked more like a tired grimace.  

 

Later that day as you were clocking out Trey walked in, the first words out of his mouth were, “Did you kill Robin yet?”  The baker in question took that moment to walk out of the kitchen with the last batch of bear claws for the day.

 

“No but she wanted to fuck me,” they said.

 

“Oh ho ho~” Trey sang out.

 

“The only reason I won’t kick your ass right now is because you’re carrying that tray!”  you groaned when the other two laughed, throwing up your hands in defeat and walking out of the shop.  When you were far enough away you let your smile slip over your face. Maybe this would work out after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com) OR at my new writing blog [Viv Writes](https://vividlywriting.tumblr.com) where I will answer asks about my writing and even take some prompts.
> 
> And if you like this story, I have a series of oneshots I've been working on! [More Than My Programming](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053845) And I've got a couple more things to go in there soon, so keep an eye out!
> 
>  
> 
> Last but not least, a long standing shout out to my friend, my beta reader, and the person with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda)
> 
> And also to my friend  
> Em who has been incredibly patient and supportive in this and is an amazing author, (this is the friend starting her DBH fic soon, it's called The Parent Trap)


	12. Synthetic or Not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dunno if you guys even like having snippets of dialogue in the summary of each chapter? If you do I'll keep it up, if not I'll keep it a surprise. 
> 
> As always, thank you guys for sticking with me and our reader here! This fic thrives because of you and the comments you leave, it makes me incredibly happy to see your reactions and hear your thoughts on a fic such as this!
> 
> Anywhooooo, after meeting Reader's work friends I think its high time for some one on one time with Connor, don't you?

Work was a blessing in disguise.  Being at the bakery, the pattern and the work that went into baking the pastries and the breads, to making the specialty desserts, it took a bit of the weight off of your chest that had settled since the accident.  You had psyched yourself out so much that you were so close to just quitting your job, and you were ever so glad you hadn’t. Now, that wasn’t to say you didn’t still worry, because you did, but you had something to look forward to everyday, something you felt gave you purpose.  Even when you didn’t think you should risk it all like you were, when you didn’t think you were worth the smiles your coworkers gave you because of your lies, you made yourself go. Times like that you could say that you went because it got you out of your house, or that you felt better when you were there, but truthfully, a few days after your shift with Robin you stared at your clock, a heavy boulder in your gut, your guilt weighing you down, and an email you had composed to Marissa explaining your situation and resigning your job.

 

For hours, waiting for the sun to rise, you hovered on that line between sending the email and deleting it.  You went to work that day, leaving the email in your drafts. You didn’t go because you wanted to, you didn’t go because they needed you, or even because you had nowhere else you wanted to be.  You went for Connor. 

 

The only way you could ever thank him, ever show him what he meant to you was to try.  That was all he ever asked of you, and after everything you couldn’t bring yourself to let him down anymore.  So you had gone to work that day, you smiled when you needed to even when you’d felt slow and misplaced in your own life.  Yet by the end of your shift you were glad you went, because you had done it. Even if it wasn’t your best day, you’d gone and you’d proven you could do it.  That meant you could do it tomorrow too, even if it was bleak, you needed to try another day. 

  
  


That night, you had gone to Hank’s to wait for the boys to return home.  You needed some good ol’ Sumo love, you’d earned it. You walked the massive canine until he pulled you back to the house and then you fed him at Connor’s request.  They were going to be late from the office. Now you were sat in the kitchen facing the front door, listening to the timer for the food you had thrown in the oven for Hank.  They were late alright, really late. That was ok though. You felt Sumo lay down at your feet. You had the best company you could ask for. 

 

The ticking of the timer lulled you into a state of wandering thoughts, thoughts that lead you to the day in the studio with Connor.  You stared at your hands, or rather your gaze was towards your hands, but you were lost to the memories. It was weird, you knew your memories since becoming an android were saved to your memory banks, you had even experienced the almost movie like replay of a memory before in your therapy sessions with Dr. Leland, but you’d never experienced a full emotional recall like what you felt now.  Sure the emotions from your memories were there, and very real, you just hadn’t experienced anything as wonderfully overwhelming as what Connor had shown you. Such a bright, warm beacon in the middle of the darkness, just waiting for you. 

 

Your focus shifted from the memory and onto your hands, the skin peeling back from them up to your wrist.  Then you just stared. There was no real certainty as to what you were really feeling as you looked at the plastic of your body.  

 

_ Androids are so….fragile…. _

 

Sure that was an odd thought  in and of itself, but you didn’t think it any less true.  The average android was smarter, stronger than humans, yeah, but emotions were new to them, as were the depths of emotion.  Something you had learned to live with could overwhelm an android if they weren’t prepared. You felt a dark surge of satisfaction knowing your pain could have destroyed the android who had assaulted you.  

 

That was another thing that made androids so fragile, there wasn’t just the worry about being physically assaulted, mentally, they were vulnerable.  Their coding, the makeup of their existence could be ripped open and torn apart. There were so many similarities between androids and humans, but the one thing that made androids that much more vulnerable than humans was probably their greatest strength.  There didn’t need to be confusion in meaning or emotion if you could show the other party exactly what was going on in your head, even if you couldn’t say it outloud you could show them. Miscommunication didn’t have to be as large a problem as it always was, true intentions either.  

 

Admittedly, that had been your biggest envy of androids since you’d begun to fall for Connor.  Sure the more durable body, loss of age related crippling and diseases, those were all well and good things to wish for, but emotional connection?  There were so many times you just couldn’t articulate what you’d wanted to say, couldn’t begin to describe what was burning inside of you. The corner of your mouth twitched up into a smile, hearing Connor’s confession play through your mind again.  Then your mouth pulled to the side in a thin line and your fingers curled slightly. 

 

_ What if he doesn’t like the things inside of me? _

 

_ Feelings...emotions….thoughts…..what if he were to see or hear something bad and then…. _

 

_ What if my feelings never measure up and it hurts him? _

 

_ What if my depression...my pain hurts him like it hurt the … other … android _

 

You hadn’t spoken to Connor about that day much, not really.  Well, more like you hadn’t spoken to him about when the two of you had interfaced.  

 

No, it wasn’t that you were avoiding it, more than before you found yourself seeking his hand to hold because it reminded you of that moment, and you knew he understood why you did so.  At least, that was what you guessed from the way he always smiled softly at you and pulled you closer to kiss your temple or cheek. Thing was, you just didn’t know how to talk about it, feeling like when you did you should be able to reciprocate properly, but that wasn’t fair to either of you.  At the very least you had made more of an effort to talk to him, to listen, to be more present.

 

You sighed, raising one of your hands to your face, your skin slowly moving back into place.  No sooner did the body temperature plastic touch your skin as you went to rub your eyes then you looked up and noticed Connor was standing in the living room staring at you with a tentative smile on his face.  You jerked back into your seat like you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t have and shoved your hands into your lap, the skin racing, now, to cover your exposed body. 

 

“Connor, what the fuck are you doin?  Move your plastic ass so I can get inside!”  Hank shoved past Connor to enter his home and you heard the timer go off. 

 

“Sorry, Hank,” Connor apologized.  He knelt down to pet Sumo who had lumbered his way over to the two men.

 

“Hey kid,” he said, mildly surprised when he was done glaring at Connor and spotted you busying yourself with the meal you had made. 

 

“Hey, Hank.  Made you some dinner,” you said gesturing to the plate you were filling.  “Hope you’re in the mood for meatloaf.” Hank sniffed the air and huffed in gratitude at the smell coming from the counter tops.

 

“Smells great, what’s the occasion?”  Hank grabbed a beer from the fridge and gave you a half hug around the shoulders before taking his plate.

 

“I came to see Sumo,” you admitted, making quick work of the mess and storing the leftovers.  “Seemed only right I do something with the food in your fridge so you get a better meal than the Chicken Feed this week.”  

 

“Ha ha, very funny.”

 

“I thought so,” Connor pitched in from the living room.

 

“Can it, you!” Hank grumbled.  You felt your lips pull up into a smile and when you turned to look at Connor he winked at you.  The butterflies in your stomach stirred and you grinned at him, glad you’d gone to work that day.  You looked back down at your hands as you dried them off from cleaning the cookware and your smile pinched.  He’d seen you. 

 

Distractedly you dried your hands, only stopping when Connor took the towel from you.  

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently, leaning around you to look you in the eyes.  You weren’t surprised he didn’t need to ask what was wrong, so you just nodded. He kissed your forehead and you relaxed.  “Alright, why don’t we go for a walk?” he suggested.

 

“I’d like that,” you said.

  
  


Connor discarded his jacket and tie in his room and walked out with his sleeves rolled up.  You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle, he was cute, well more than cute. You’d mentioned once, very early in your relationship, how you’d quite enjoyed the sight of Connor somewhat dressed down after he’d been at work.  Sure you liked seeing him in just about anything...and nothing, but he’d retained that particular compliment and always seemed to make as lowkey of an effort as he could to replicate that look for you. It made your heart warm.  

 

The fluttering inside of you didn’t abate when the two of you stepped outside, and you wondered for a moment if there was something wrong with you.  For you to have gone through such a spectrum of emotions in a day like this, but you could only shrug.

 

_ Why does something always have to be wrong? _

 

You looked at Connor as the two of you walked down the sidewalk, his LED a calm blue when he smiled down at you.  The butterflies whirled a little harder.

 

_ Flutter by butterfly. _   
  


“Connor?” you said quietly and he slowed to a stop, question in his eyes.

  
You shook your head subtly at yourself and stretched up, kissing Connor on the cheek.  Connor froze where he was standing, foot falling back to the sidewalk mid step. His eyes widened, as did his smile, and his LED began spinning blue rapidly.  

 

_ Oh _

 

_ I haven’t really kissed him since the accident. _

 

_ Kissed him on the nose once to tease him...but…. _

 

You smiled shyly, why did you suddenly feel shy about that?  It wasn’t like you were a teenager, or even in the beginning stages of your relationship with Connor.  You turned to start walking, hands over your face as you started to giggle at yourself. Connor jogged to catch up to you, shaking himself from his own thoughts and pulled your hand from your face to hold in his own.  

 

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for blocks, going nowhere in particular.  Every time you looked up at him you caught him smiling at you and you felt your fluttering friends start to kick up again, your core temperature heating just enough to begin tinting your face.  That only seemed to make Connor happier, because his smile kept slipping in and out of a pleased smirk. 

 

You weren’t entirely sure how much time had passed since the two of you started walking, but eventually your mind brought you back to the real reason the two of you had decided to take this walk.  

 

“We - I never … “ you trailed off and breathed heavily out of your nose.  “Never talked about that day, between you and me.” Connor remained silent, but he squeezed your hand encouragingly.  “I...I don’t know how to really bring it up? After everything, with me I just...I still don’t even know how to really feel about my body as it is,” you said, looking up just in time to see a flash of yellow circle through his LED and his eyes widen slightly.  “I … thank you Connor...I don’t know if I’ve ever really said thank you this entire time.”

 

“____, you don’t need to -”

 

“I do though, I owe you so much, but it isn’t even about that!  I...don’t know how to really explain it,” you mumbled. “I want to be better, because you’ve done so much and I don’t want to always be like this.  It isn’t always easy to convince myself of something for my own sake, but for others...for you? I can convince myself to give it a shot.” You looked up at Connor and then away to the environment around you.  You were nearing the street your apartment was on, even if it was many many more blocks away. 

 

“Words of affirmation can mean a lot to people, even if it’s just affirming that you’ve heard them, or you care about them,” Connor said after a moment of silence.  “But just because you don’t know what to say doesn’t mean we don’t know how hard you’ve been trying, or how much you care. You do more than you realize, every day, in small ways.  You’re so strong.” He squeezed your hand again and you blinked the tears that had sprung up away.

 

“You worry about so many things that you can’t control, or predict.”  He nudged you with the hint of a laugh at that last part and you pursed your lips to fight the smile trying to work it's way out.  “I’m not even sure you know how far you’ve come.” Connor held up the hand he was holding to get you to look at it, harkening back to when he’d arrived home and found you looking at your body underneath your synthetic skin.  You looked away.

 

“I don’t know...I don’t know why…” you mumbled.  “Everything feels weird when I look at my body, not bad...not good...but... it’s  _ my _ body.”  You looked up at Connor and he sucked in a breath at the burning hope, albeit confused, in your eyes.  “It’s mine, I don’t want to be afraid of myself anymore.” A dry laugh escaped you. “There’re enough things to be scared of in this world, plus...I…..”  

 

_ Do I tell him I’ve been thinking about our interface? _

 

_ Do I tell him I wish I had the balls to try it again. _

 

_ Is it possible to build so many good memories with it that the bad ones don’t hurt as much? _

 

_ Could I delete the bad ones? _

 

_ Would I want to? _

 

_ No...I don’t know…. _

 

_ Even if I did it wouldn’t mean it didn’t happen… _

 

“____?”  Connor asked, startling you from your train of thoughts.

 

_ No...everything makes me who I am...forgetting something doesn’t solve the problem. _

 

“Never mind,” you said looking back down the street.  Your park wasn’t too far from where you were, you started to lead Connor towards it.

 

“Nu uh, what were you going to say?” Connor pushed.  You remained silent until you reached the outskirts of the park.

 

“I miss us,” you finally said.  “I miss who...how I was before, how we were…”  You pulled your hand from Connor’s and turned to look at him, back stepping towards the swings.  “This is where I come some nights.” You attempted to change the subject and gestured to the park, turning on your heels when you neared the swing set and settled yourself in your usual swing.  Connor followed behind you quietly, stopping to lean against the frame of the swing set. Then he stepped forward and grabbed the chains of your swing before you could do more than sway in place.  You caught his eyes, this time not looking away. You weren’t even sure if you could look away. 

 

“Who you were, who you are now, I love all of you,” Connor said firmly, voice quiet.  “As for how we are, I wouldn’t trade it for anything, because it’s us, because it’s you.”  You swallowed, searching his face. Your thirium pump was beating a little too fast at the surge of emotions within you.  

 

“Connor, I…” your voice broke and you trailed off.  What did you even say to that? You wanted to tell him that you loved him too, but…

 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, hands sliding down the chains to where yours were, wrapping around them.  You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. 

 

Slowly Connor leaned down, even as your head tilted up.  Your thirium pump was going much too fast now, and you couldn’t even think to speak, certain the butterflies were going to literally erupt from your mouth.  Then he was kissing you. His lips were soft, and you damn near thought your thirium pump was going to short circuit. One kiss became another and you all but stood up from your swing.  His hands over yours on the chains kept you in place when all you wanted to do was hold him closer.

 

You loved him so much, missed so much.  Missed him holding you in bed while you fell asleep or woke up, missed kissing him good morning, missed his sass when you tried to get yet another five minutes of sleep.  You missed how open you’d been with him, how much the two of you had shared and experienced together; each new experience as a deviant for Connor felt almost new to you as well.  You so badly wanted to find the new dynamic that would work for the both of you. You didn’t want to lose him because you couldn’t find your way out of this dark hole. 

 

You loved him...so much it hurt...and you weren’t even sure if it measured up to what you knew he felt for you, but it was still …. So overwhelming … ?

 

**_I love you too._ **

 

You pulled back quickly from Connor at the sound of his whispered words inside your head, eyes wide and heart racing.  A quick glance at where your hands and Connor’s hands met on the chains told you what had happened, if the sensation of your skin returning to cover your lips didn’t tell you enough.  

 

“Did I do that?” you asked, voice nearly panicked, and Connor nodded, straightening up and releasing your swing.  He was wary of aggravating your panic. “Oh no. No no no - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. It wasn’t my intention to force a -"  Your panicked apologies were cut off when Connor cupped your cheek fondly.

 

“You didn't force anything,” he explained gently.  You just shook your head.

 

“I don't know how this is supposed to work.  I don't want to make you -" 

 

“Intent,” Connor said, once again getting you to quiet.  “The intent behind an initiated interface is everything and impossible to hide.  I could have denied your interface if I had wanted to.”

 

It had been so tentative, you hadn't even known what you were doing, just a light brush of consciousness seeking his.  Subconsciously afraid of pushing anything, of risking anything, but Connor could only melt against the feeling of your lips on his, eagerly accepting anything you would give him.  Having wished since the moment he fell for you that he could share this with you and now that he could, it was almost too much. You had far less self control than he did when it came to what you shared across the interface, no matter how tentative it was.  You sought his comfort, his love, and he felt so much he didn’t know where you began and he ended. Things you wouldn’t, or couldn’t say aloud turned to static as he struggled to not lose himself in your raw emotions completely. He couldn’t help but give you what you sought, letting his own emotions feed from and into your own, that had been what tipped you off to what was happening because you’d pulled away and he’d felt guilt, worried that he should have stopped at the start.  Yet you were worried you’d upset him. 

 

His own thirium pump had finally calmed down, and he could see the panic slowly leaving your eyes.  He was glad.

 

“I’m so confused,” you whispered, looking down at your knees even while you leaning into his hand on your cheek.  “Confused and scared.”

 

“I know,” Connor soothed, his thumb rubbed your cheek bone.  “It’s ok, it’s still new, but it’s also ok to never really get it either.”  You nodded, breathing slowly. He was right, you knew that, but you still couldn’t believe you’d initiated and interface with him.  After everything that had happened to you.

 

_ Can’t believe I did that. _

 

_ What is wrong with me?? _

 

_ How is he ok with what happened? _

 

_ You did just say you wished you could share things with him easier. _

 

_ That doesn’t mean anything how could I- _

 

_ Oh no… _

 

You looked up quickly, realization stark on your face.

 

“You heard me...felt...you know that I….I-” you stammered, face heating up as quickly as your pulse did.  Connor’s smile finally broke across his face and he raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to finish your statement.  When you didn’t he only smiled more, chuckling good naturedly.

 

“I did,” he said simply.  Oh he was very glad that you could still blush as easily as you always had.  You ducked your head and leaned forward until it fell against his stomach and you felt him laugh again.  

 

_ No hiding things from him now. _

 

_ I might never hear the end of this! _

 

And yet you were smiling, even if Connor couldn’t see it.  Despite the panic, and the upset, and the mix of emotions that came knowing you’d started an interface, this moment right now almost felt normal, peaceful.  There had been something missing between you and Connor since this whole thing began, and whether or not the interpretation was meant to be literal, you realized you just had to let him in.  Not to say things would stay this way, or would magically get better one hundred percent, but it was bigger step forward than you knew you could take. As it was, though, you weren’t ready to let this moment go.

 

“Why don’t you swing with me for a bit?” you asked him when you’d managed to look him in the eye again.  He looked at the swing next to you dubiously.

 

“I’m not -”

 

“Oh come on, babe, it’s not that hard,” you teased, pushing him towards the swing with your foot.  “I don’t want to go home yet, and I...I’d like to share this with you.”

 

“You want to share swinging?” he asked, taking his seat nonetheless. 

 

“Yes, and if you shut up, you might figure out why I’ve been coming here at night.”  You started your legs swinging, the start was always the slowest. Connor watched you intently, trying to figure out what on earth it was that he had to do to get the swing going.  “Besides,” you added, “no time like the present to build some good ‘ol childhood-esque memories.”

 

“Ha ha,” he said dryly, copying your movements.  It took him a few tries but eventually he got it going.

 

“Maybe I can ask your dad to come give you a push one day.”  Now you were just teasing him, using humor to alleviate an awkwardness you still felt, and happy the two of you could banter like this.

 

“Hank would most certainly not agree to that, and I don’t think -”

 

“HA!  That’s the first time you’ve called Hank your dad!”  Now you were cackling, swinging ever higher in your mirth.  Connor fell silent and looked at you.

 

“Shit….not a word you hear me!  I’ll never hear the end of it if he finds out,” Connor muttered.  You could only keep laughing. 

 

“Maybe if I get him to slip then it wouldn’t be so bad, ey?”  You caught Connor’s eye, and then looked back up at the sky.

 

“Well…”

 

“You’re cute,” you said.

 

“I try.”  Connor winked at you, causing you to roll your eyes.

 

After a while of silence, the only noises in the night being those of passing cars, the wind, and the creak of the swing chains Connor had to admit that he could see why you came out here.  It was peaceful. Glancing over at you showed him exactly how peaceful it was, and it made his pump speed for a moment. He wondered what it was you actually felt out here in the dark. Perhaps he would ask you to show him another time.  You’d given him more than he could have asked for as it was already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com) OR at my new writing blog [Viv Writes](https://vividlywriting.tumblr.com) where I will answer asks about my writing and even take some prompts.
> 
> And if you like this story, I have a series of oneshots I've been working on! [More Than My Programming](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053845) And I've got a couple more things to go in there soon, so keep an eye out!
> 
>  
> 
> Last but not least, a long standing shout out to my friends, my beta readers, and the people with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda) and  
> Em ! Check 'em out guys! They write incredibly as well.


	13. Disaster Art

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang, I nearly forgot to post this BUT HERE IT IS  
> Who's ready for some more time with Markus? and some other friends? Some reader growth? Who likes art but can't do much more than throw paint at a canvas? 
> 
> And don't worry guys! I'll be responding to the comments very soon, I honestly love seeing them!

You were hanging out with Ann and Ferra, Miles was working a late shift at the hospital, in one of the art rooms in the main complex of Haven.  The room was a smaller one than the one Connor had confessed his feelings for you, but it had plenty of things to get messy with. You really didn’t have much of a hand at craft, if you couldn't directly relate a thing to baking or confectionery decoration you were rather abysmal.  That wasn't stopping you from dipping a large paint brush in a bucket of paint and flinging the paint at a canvas. It was rather cathartic actually. 

 

You had started out loose and light, but the more you threw the harder you threw it.  Laughter became silence and a bitter scowl overtook your face. There was a dark sense of satisfaction at the harsh treatment of the paint.  Your friends watched from their own projects, not interrupting you, but watching to make sure you were ok. There was...so much anger. You were so angry.

 

You didn’t even know where the anger was coming from.  For so long you’d felt fear and pain and anxiety, but this?  This was hot, and erratic. It was bitter and coppery like the taste of blood, something you would never taste again, something you had to rely on your shitty human memory in your perfect android body to remember.

 

The canvas was about as covered as the tarp that sat behind it at this point.  That didn’t mean you were stopping. You were sinking your hand further into the bucket, coating your skin to the knuckles and completely covering the brush.  Paint was flying from you as much as the brush now. What did it matter though? Nothing! It didn’t matter, why would it matter? Maybe covering yourself in paint would hide you, hide everything that was wrong.  Fresh coat of paint to make it all look new! Make it all look different.

 

You huffed and dropped the brush next to the bucket just scooping up paint to splash on the canvas with your bare hands.  Haven wasn’t a haven, it was just somewhere you could hide where no one was allowed to toss you out. If everyone had their way they’d all toss you out!  And they would all be wrong! 

 

You were stronger than all of them!  You were human! You were android! You were neither!  Why did the world have to decide what and who you were?  That was your job! 

 

Wasn’t it?

 

_ Isn’t it? _

 

You stopped flinging paint and let your hands fall to your sides.  From fingertips to the middle of your forearms you dripped paint. One arm red and the other arm blue.  The canvas was a mess, the whole area around you was a mess.

 

_ Wouldn’t you know it, I’m a mess too. _

 

You thought to yourself and then promptly sat down.  Your clothes were already covered in paint, something else that sent an odd wave of wrongness through you.  Normally you would try to clean up immediately, bemoaning the ruination of your clothing, you just didn’t feel the need to bother with it right now.  What good would cleaning up do anyway?

 

Your mouth quirked to the side and your looked down at your jeans, little specks and splatters were drying here and there on the fabric.  Suddenly you lifted your hands and smacked them down on your jeans, leaving two perfect hand prints, one red and one blue, surrounded by splatter.  

 

“Need this?” Ferra asked, tossing a towel towards you.  You picked it up and began wiping your arms clean. You’d need a good long shower to get it all off but at least now you weren’t a walking paint brush.  

 

“Thanks.”  You looked over to your friends, curious as to what they were doing.  Anastasia was trying to design a cake. Scraps of paper were scattered around her, some crumpled and some balled up completely.  She had mentioned wanting to make a cake for the kids at the hospital Miles worked at, having heard how long some of them had been in there, but she didn’t seem to be making any progress.

 

“Why don’t you try to design a batch of cupcakes instead of a cake, Ann?  Wouldn’t the kids be able to have equal amounts then?” Ferra pointed out when Anastasia tore yet another sheet out of the book she was working in.  

 

“Oh!  Wait! That’s a good idea, hold on a sec!” Ann began to furiously sketch and Ferra chuckled, looking back down at was she was doing.  Ferra, much to your surprise, had a very delicate hand with clay. In the time the three of you had been in the studio she had sculpted a teacup, purposefully cracked with vines and flowers growing from the crack to curl back up around the lip of the cup.  It made something twinge inside of you.

 

_ Broken doesn’t mean not beautiful. _

 

“LOOK AT THIS!” Anastasia shouted, turning her sketchbook around for the two of you to see.  You had no trouble seeing what she’d sketched, even from where you sat, even though she was across the room.  There were three tiers of cupcakes, each decorated differently and yet forming a cohesive theme; heroes and villains, strength.  It was fun and you could only imagine the vivid colors Ann had in mind for the icings and fondant. 

 

“That looks fun, what’s it for?”  Everyone turned to look at the person who had entered the room.  Markus was standing just inside the door. Your head tilted to the side and you turned a little more feeling your muscles stretch.  

 

“The kids at Mile’s hospital!”  Ann said proudly, turning the sketchbook back to her to look back over the design.  “Research showed that kids like fantasy characters with power, good and bad, they all have stories and they’re known for surviving.”  She nodded in satisfaction and grinned. Markus’s mouth twitched with a grin of his own, though he didn’t show it openly. Then he turned a raised eyebrow and inquisitive expression to the mess you were sitting in.  His eyes flicked to the canvas covered in blue and red paint that dripped and splattered into patches of purple and then back to you. You threw your hands up in the air, your skin tinted with the hue of the paint.

 

“I HAVE BECOME ONE WITH THE PAINT!” you shouted to the room and then promptly laid down into the mess of paint on the floor.

 

“I can see that,” Markus said, a chuckle escaping him along with his grin.  He crossed his arms and looked from you back to your canvas. “It’s very expressive,” he commented.

 

“She was,” Ferra interjected and you shrugged from your spot on the floor.

 

“Red and blue huh?” Markus asked.

 

“You didn’t have any purple,” you replied simply.

 

“And you didn’t just mix it?”  Markus stepped into the room and walked around the paint splatters to survey the damage.

 

“Where’s the fun in that?  Besides, I kind of like how this turned out.”

 

“This is one helluva mess, ____.”

 

“I am.”

 

Silence followed your quick retort and then suddenly you snorted with laughter, ugly laughter exploding from you at your self deprecating humor.  Ferra shook her head and went back to her project. Markus picked up your drenched, discarded paint brush and took it to the nearby sink. 

 

“Hey, wait!”  You launched yourself from the floor and moved to take the brush back from him.  “I can clean my own damn mess, gimme that!” Markus had already turned the water on to rinse the brush off.

 

“Old habits die hard.”  Was all he said with a shrug.  You made a face and combed your hands through your hair with a huff.  

 

“Ugh-”  Your hands had picked up more paint from the floor and now your hair was plastered back from your face with streaks of red, blue, and purple.  You heard someone calling for Markus from outside the studio and he turned and swore, quickly dropping the brush in the sink and moving to stand behind the cabinet next to the window.  

 

“Don’t say anything,” he said and you shared a look of confusion with Ann and Ferra, struggling not to laugh.

 

Seconds later North appeared at the door.

 

“Have you seen Mar- what in RA9 exploded in here?!” she asked, eyes darting around the room to come to a rest on the paint covered form that was you.

 

“Me,” you said, raising your hand.  She only shook her head and rolled her eyes.

 

“Have you seen Markus?” she asked.  Ann made some adjustments to her sketch and Ferra kept her eyes down, a half smile of amusement on her face.  Your eyebrows shot up and you bent down to cap the paint cans.

 

_ Keep your hands busy. _

 

_ Eyes down. _

 

_ Don’t laugh. _

 

_ Why is Markus hiding from North? _

 

_ Shhh don’t laugh. _

 

_ Don’t smile. _

 

_ Dumbass. _

 

_ How do I not lie to her though? _

 

Your mind zeroed in on Markus in his hiding spot and you narrowed your eyes at the paint cans as if they had personally wronged you.

 

_ Fuck you Markus, North’s a scary woman if you cross her! _

 

You swore you heard Markus laugh in your head, and what almost sounded like an apology.  You just shook your head in confusion and looked back at North, picking the cans up to clean them off.

 

“I did, he stopped by not too long ago, stood right where you are right now actually,” you said with a shrug and moved to the sink to place the cans on the counter.

 

“Well he isn’t right now, clearly,” North said, exasperated.  

 

“Clearly.”

 

“Well do you know where he went?” she pressed.

 

“I have no  _ idea _ what he’s doing,” you said rubbing your red and blue palms together, mixing the paint to purple in your hands.  North groaned. You gave her a sympathetic expression and moved towards the cabinet as casually as you could. 

 

“If you see him, let me know, we have a conference tomorrow and I need him to go over the plan again.”  North turned to leave, not waiting for you to agree. You heard her shout for Josh. “He’s not here!”   
  
“North, maybe we should just let him do his own thing for a bit, you’ve been high strung about tomorrow for weeks,” you heard Josh respond, sounding tired.

 

“We don’t have time for that right now -”  The two leaders’ voices faded as they walked away to continue their search.  You had managed to step in front of Markus without raising suspicion, and now that she was gone the other two women were looking at you.  

 

“Thanks,” Markus said.  You raised your purple hands and your eyebrows, pressing your lips together.

 

“Ok, explain,” you said, gesturing with your hands.  

 

“Really?  You do know I can avoid you and your oh so scary paint hands, right?” Markus pointed out, ignoring Ferra’s snort. You shrugged and he sighed.  “I’ve been over that plan thirty five times, this  _ week _ .  I need a moment without being Markus the ambassador or Markus the leader.  I just want to Markus for a moment,” he admitted and you nodded in understanding.  You could understand the feeling of missing yourself.

 

“Well you came to the right place!”  You mock saluted, leaving a purple smudge on your forehead.  Ferra got up and shut the studio door.

 

“Thanks,” he breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing just a little.  As long as you’d known Markus, you could count on two hands the number of times you had actually seen the man relax, it actually made you sad to think about.  Still, you narrowed your eyes at him and pointed a finger accusingly. 

 

“By the way, were you in my head?” you asked him.  Realization crossed his face and for a moment the facial expression of “oops” manifested before you.

 

“I was just responding, sorry,” he said.  His words circled in your head for a moment before you realized what they meant.  

 

“Oh, sonuva bitch,” you said to yourself.  “Something else I need to be careful of, I don’t need the world hearing my gods damned thoughts!”  You threw your hands up and turned to go back to your mess. 

  
  


Simon was actually the one who found your little group a couple of hours later, walking into the studio to see you posing dramatically with Ferra for Anastasia to sketch and Markus laughing softly while he worked on a painting of his own.  You had cleaned up your mess, and even washed most of the paint off of your skin and hair. Ferra was holding you as you feigned swooning, neither of you tiring as you held the pose, but your laughter at the faces Ferra was making at you had nearly made her drop you a couple of times.  Seeing Simon slip into the room caused you to turn quickly.

 

“SIMON!” you said with a large smile.

 

“____!  No wait, I can’t-” Ferra tried to warn you, but it was too late, you had moved too much and slipped out of her grip.  With a sharp yelp you fell to the floor, there was no pain, but your body tensed as if there would be, and the impact was jarring enough to knock the wind out of you.  

 

“Are you ok?” a couple of people asked at once.

 

“This is my home now,” you responded from where you laid.  “Heya, Simon.” Simon laughed and shared a look with Markus.

 

“Hey, ___,” he replied.  

 

It turned out that Markus had told Simon where he was, and from the look on Simon’s face you could tell he was glad that Markus had managed to find some time to relax.  So for a short while your hidden group grew by one. Simon didn’t do much, but he seemed to enjoy just being there with everyone. He, like everyone else had, asked about your appearance and your splattered canvas, inquiring to whether you were the art piece or the canvas.  Your dry laugh had made your friends laugh. 

 

Soon enough though, Anastasia had to leave to start work on the cupcakes, Simon had to drag Markus back to his duties, Ferra had agreed prior to meet Miles and join him on his walk back to Haven, and you supposed you should probably go clean up.  

 

Problem was, when you actually looked out the window, you saw that night had fallen.  Ice shot through your gut and you eyed the door to the studio. Ann had already left, Markus had left to store his painting in his room to continue later, but Simon and Ferra noticed you balk.  

 

_ You can do this, even if you have to run. _

 

_ Less people in Haven at night, what if something happens? _

 

_ North and Markus both promised that would never happen again. _

 

_ Three flights of stairs and - _

 

**449 FEET FROM THE NEAREST EXIT**  blared across your interface.

 

_ Uggghhhhh _

 

You waved your friends off and then stopped.

 

“Hey, would guys mind walking me out?” you asked tentatively.  Simon shared a look with Ferra, relief flashing through his eyes.  They both agreed wholeheartedly and you breathed a sigh of relief. You had been moments away from doing your best impression of Markus and climbing through the window and down to the ground.  You knew that would not have ended very well.

 

You survived the walk out of Haven, your interface scanning every face you saw, and you didn’t even care to be upset about it.  It was soothing in a way. Simon left you at the door, thanking you for hiding Markus earlier and promising to see you soon. You promised to hide Markus anytime he asked, it had been fun.  Ferra walked with you until your path diverged from hers, and only when you swore you’d be fine getting home did she agree to let you go on our own. By that point you were fine to continue on, greeting the night with a relieved breath and a smile.  

 

It had been a good day.

 

You looked at your hands as you walked, watching the skin peel back from the fingers to the knuckles and you wiggled them.  A weird feeling of what was almost butterflies churned inside you. Not bad, just weird.

 

_ Huh. _

 

You dropped your hands and headed home.

 

“You’re a mess!  What happened?”

 

You looked at Connor on your doorstep and raised your hands.

 

“I’m art!” you said, gesturing to yourself.  “See?” He only laughed, shaking his head, and when you walked up and unlocked your front door he snagged your waist and kissed you quickly on your lips.

 

“Everyday, yes,” he said with a smirk causing you to huff in embarrassment.

 

Long after you had showered and filled Connor in on your day and he’d filled you in on his you heard a knock at your front door.  It was nearly five in the morning, you looked at Connor sharply and he told you to stay where you were. You waited until he had gone to the door before following him, making a face when he gestured in a “why didn’t you stay?!” way.  He sighed, but let you stay. When he didn’t see anything through the peephole he opened the door. 

 

There was no one there, but there was a large package.  You could only shrug when Connor looked at you. Cautiously he picked the package up, a note stuck to the front read; 

**You forgot these.**

 

  * ****Markus****



 

 

“Oh!” you said, knowing what was in the package now.  “Wait, these?”

 

“That’s what the note says,” Connor said, reading it again.

 

You took the package to your table and opened it, your splattered canvas was on top.  Connor picked it up and looked it over curiously. 

 

“Yours?”

 

“How could you tell?” you asked with just a hint of sarcasm.  You picked up the second canvas and turned it over. “Oh...wow…” you trailed off.  There was a feminine figure in the center of the canvas, backlit with warm colors and standing in a shadowed space.  Her arms were bent and her hands were raised to catch streams of red and blue that were falling from out of view, the color falls trickling through her fingers to little puddles on the ground either side of her.  Bright colors that stood out against the dim lighting of the background. Where the color falls hit the figure’s hands her arms began to take on those colors. Her left arm was red and her right was blue, and both were gradiating to a vivid, beautiful purple that was toning her whole form.  The woman looked at peace, though her features were hard to make out. You were speechless, you were in tears. It was gorgeous, it was -   
  
“That’s you.” Connor said softly.

 

Silence stretched for a moment as the two of you stared at the painting.

 

_ That little shit. _

 

_ He was painting me?   _

 

_ THE WHOLE TIME??? _

 

_ It’s beautiful… _

 

_ Then he had them delivered...to my house...in the middle of the night...like a dork… _

 

You looked up at Connor, who’s signature half smile had taken over his face when he met your eyes.

 

_ These guys…. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com) OR at my new writing blog [Viv Writes](https://vividlywriting.tumblr.com) where I will answer asks about my writing and even take some prompts.
> 
> And if you like this story, I have a series of oneshots I've been working on! [More Than My Programming](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053845) And I've got a couple more things to go in there soon, so keep an eye out!
> 
>  
> 
> Last but not least, a long standing shout out to my friends, my beta readers, and the people with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda) who writes some fantastically fun oneshots and  
> [Em](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disillusionist9/pseuds/disillusionist9) ! Check 'em out guys! 
> 
> If you want a fun ReaderxConnor fic tha promises mystery, angst, fluff, and wonderful comedic moments go check out [The Parent Trap](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15842634/chapters/36894789#workskin). I'm not saying I help provide some great oneliners, but I'm not saying I don't either ;]


	14. The Bridge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter Reader learns how to initiate an interface to better share her side and emotions, and Connor begins to learn what it truly means to be human.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is where I start bringing in about 4 different arcs of plot that happen simultaneously. Don't worry, they each start a little on their own before weaving together. Can you figure out the first one?
> 
> ALSO HEYYYY I had no idea you guys would respond to the Disaster Art chapter so well! I was worried a little about keeping it in the story, but the story wouldn't be the same without it, y'know? It's refreshing to show moments like this with our cast of characters.

Connor stayed with you the rest of that night, walking with you after helping you to hang the paintings in your home.  The next night he found you at the park after his shift. You were already well in the air by the time he arrived. Stress for Ann over her first day tomorrow had driven you to the place you found calm when you needed it.  Connor took the swing next to you though all he did was sway in place a little. Your swinging stirred the air enough that his hair shifted gently in the subsequent breeze. 

 

You learned he had gone to your home to surprise you, and came to the park when you weren’t there.  You were a little sluggish in responding to him, mind occupied by a million things, and seemed to have trouble parsing through any of them at a reasonable pace.  Perhaps you were overloaded? 

 

“I wish you would get some rest,” Connor finally said after you’d fallen silent again.  A pout pulled at your lips and you huffed, slowing your swing to a complete stop. He’d felt how much you missed being curled up in his arms in bed when you’d interfaced briefly the other night, and he’d been trying even harder since to get you to try going into sleep mode to give your systems a chance to recharge and rest.  When you didn’t answer him he pulled your swing over towards him. “Please, just for a little while? You need it, whether or not you will admit it.” 

 

You grumbled, tugging back on the chains, mood souring.

 

“You know how I feel about this, Connor.”

 

“I know, I also know that you said you would let me help you.”

 

_ I did say that… _

 

You avoided his insistent gaze, electing instead to frown at the jungle gym beyond him. 

 

“You asked me plenty of times to rest in the past, even when I didn't need it-” Connor began.

 

“I wouldn't ask that now!” you pointed out.  He only nodded as your eyes shifted back to his face.

 

“I know, but I never minded,” he chuckled.  “Actually, I tried very hard to avoid sleeping if I could. There was so much to do, I didn't want to risk losing any time. I only slept when it began to affect my performance enough for Hank to notice.  I didn't notice myself otherwise.” You knew this, you remembered noticing the pattern early on when you'd met Connor. It had been a point of pride for you when you had convinced him to sleep beside you before his usually scheduled sleep.  

 

He was so unsure what to do with himself that night.

 

Where did his hands go, did he hold you like this? Or was this better?  He had asked so many questions, only stopping when he had realized you'd gotten comfortable in his arms and fallen asleep.  You had looked so peaceful, happy. Everytime he tried to move you would snuggle closer to him until he gave up and contented himself with holding you just a little tighter.  He didn't get much rest that night, only an hour or two, not that he ever told you. Connor had been too preoccupied with how holding you like that made him feel like if he let go he might float away, how he wanted to keep holding you for as long as he possibly could, how he wanted to commit your scent and the gentle pulse of your heartbeat to memory.  Holding you had been intoxicating, if that were even possible for an android. 

 

“You're the reason I got into the habit of sleeping somewhat regularly,” Connor continued.

 

_ That's probably true, he did sleep more after I got him to spend the night with me. _

 

_ I miss that. _

 

_ It won't be the same though! _

 

_ Cuddling while sleepy is different than just laying in bed together! _

 

_ He doesn't get it, he won't get it! _

 

_ Wasn't like he was ever tired when he joined me though… _

 

“Hey, are you ok?” Connor asked when you still didn't answer.

 

“I'm fine, I just don't want to face yet another thing I've lost is all.” Your voice came out defeated and you looked away from him again.

 

“I don't…” he trailed off

 

“I know, Connor, I don't expect you to understand,” you sighed.  “I'm sorry.” 

 

You were both silent for a moment and then Connor extended his hand towards you.

 

“I'd like to,” he whispered.  You swallowed. He was asking you to interface with him, to show him what you couldn't say, what he couldn't feel.  Could you show him just a part? What if your resentment came through instead? It wasn't like you resented  _ him _ , you resented the situation.  No matter how much you called your body yours, or how much you began accepting it, you couldn't stop the hot oil of your resentment from rising to coat your insides when Connor would try to get you to do something that for him would be so normal and for you so...not.

 

The resentment made you feel ill.  What if he took it the wrong way? 

 

You were lying to yourself.

 

Sometimes you did resent Connor, just a little. You knew it was unfounded and it was enough to make you not want to let him in your head.

 

Hiding that from him made you feel worse.  So you shook your head.

 

“If I purposefully open that door for you, there are things I don't know how to hide and I don't want to hurt you,” you finally said.  Connor pulled his hand back slightly and then reached out to take yours from your lap, just holding it. He guided you from the swing to a bench nearby and pulled you flush against his side, arm around your waist, when you were both sitting.

 

“If you don't tell me what's wrong, I won't know how to help, or how to do better,” he said softly.

 

“I know.”  You looked down at your knees, voice tight.  Eventually you lifted your hand, offering it to Connor as you shifted until you were sitting nearly sideways on the bench facing him.  The skin on your hand peeled back slowly, hesitantly, and he wasted no time in meeting you, breathing a quiet sigh of relief.

 

You tried to focus on the times you had fallen asleep in his arms, the feeling of being tired and warm and safe, but the instant he initiated the interface all the breath left you.  Panic welled inside you at the feeling of not being yourself, an interface this open, unlike either of the two previous times you had interfaced with Connor was disassociating. There wasn’t a massive, nuclear bomb shelter wall you were hiding behind, and Connor didn’t have as strong a filter up as he had the first time.  There was so much space, more than the confines of your own mind, and so much information at your fingertips that wasn’t yours, feelings that weren’t yours, foreign thoughts and ideas. You began to retract your hand, bricks flying into place to shield you the only way your mind knew how, unable to fully handle the expanse that existed when you and Connor were connected.  All you were was laid bare, except it didn’t really feel like you were you, so what were you?

 

“It’s ok, focus on your breathing,” Connor urged, squeezing your hand gently in encouragement and you nodded, eyes never leaving his face. You could feel Connor, heard him out loud, heard him inside.  He was carefully extracting himself from you, untangling the two of you. Your mind, when face with something new, hadn’t known whether to accept or reject it all at first, only to latch onto everything in an attempt to make sense of it.  Your curious personality was biting you in the ass as your mind was still so unused to such intimate contact with information, let alone another living being. Connor loved you all the more for braving this experience with him once again, yet for the first time he was fully aware of how disconnected you were from your body.  Your panic had shot through him, making his own thirium pump speed and breathing catch as if he were the one losing himself. It had taken more effort than he was going to admit to separate your feelings from his, a testament to how strong they were. 

 

Finally you felt enough separation between the two of you, almost like you were standing across from him in your mind, fuzzy and barely stable.  The image helped you focus a little more and you watched a smile flit across Connors face, you could feel a light laugh of amusement coming from him through the interface and your brow creased, narrowing your eyes at him.

 

“That is certainly an apt way to view an interface,” he said.

 

“It kind of helps,” you admitted, “keeping who we are separate, visualizing it kind of helps.  I just…” you paused, finding it hard to focus on keeping yourself together without hiding behind a wall and being aware of the world around you so you settled for thinking at him instead.

 

_ I don’t know how to share things without losing myself. _

 

Connor sat in thought for a moment, you could feel him trying to formulate a way to explain it.  So far you had only shared things by accident, not knowing you were doing it. Doing things by accident always seemed easier than when you tried to do them on purpose.

 

**_You don’t have to give me all of you,_ ** Connor responded, electing to speak through the interface as you had.   **_Think of a star and how it can absorb another star, what it looks like.  You know how it looks like a stream of star matter is connecting the two stars?_ **  You nodded.   **_Use that image to try and show me something._ **  You were skeptical, he could feel that, you knew he knew you were skeptical, but you didn’t argue.  It was, after all, a decent idea.

 

Your eyes stayed on Connor’s face, but you didn’t see him, lost in your mental image of the interface.  It wasn’t that hard to imagine really. You could barely keep yourself together so picturing a bridge between the two of you came easily.  Connor was more solid in your mind than you were, as if you were a cloud, or a star.

 

It took a moment, feeling him through the interface, feeling yourself, fighting the fear of losing yourself again long enough to extend your hand metaphorically.  Then you really did feel him, and it was him, not you losing yourself in who he was, but him like the first time, just a little. Elation rolled through him to you and you almost smiled and then felt your focus waver.  You frowned in concentration. 

 

_ Ok, ok, I got this.  I can do this. _

 

**_Can you try to show me what’s wrong?_ ** Connor asked you gently.  You’d nearly forgotten why you had even agreed to this adventure into madness.   **_Why you won’t rest?_ **

 

Now it all came rushing back, the frustration, the resentment, the anxiety, the loss.  The only reason you didn’t end the interface right then was because you had already come this far, you were too stubborn to just give up, and he was right.  If he didn’t know what was wrong, he couldn’t help. 

 

Connor felt a sudden rush of emotions surge through the interface to him, unable to understand where most of them even came from, but he felt the resentment.  It hurt. He didn’t know you resented him. It distracted him.

 

You felt Connor show you a ghost of the feeling of resentment, it felt like a question.  It was so weird. A feeling as a question. Was that even possible? Apparently so. Could you show him the answer?  Only one way to find out.

 

You thought about what it felt like to be faced with your new life, everything different, nothing the same, the feeling of losing yourself and your life as you were, and how it felt to see everyone continue on in their lives.  The same. Their lives were all the same, the world kept turning, and things that didn’t change for them were entirely different for you if they even still existed. It hurt, it made you sad, depressed, angry, resentful. You didn’t hate anyone, and you felt Connor relax at that, but you resented moments when you were asked to do something you had used to do as if it were possible to just go back to the way things were.  

 

**_I’m sorry,_ ** Connor responded, his apology soft in the wake of what you had shared.  You felt the fire of your anger recede and you sighed there on the bench, eyes flitting over his apologetic expression.  

 

_ I don’t blame you, you wouldn’t have known, and it wasn’t something I ever wanted to share. _

 

**_Why?_ **

 

You let your guilt reach him, tightening your grip on the bridge to try to make sure your emotions didn’t overwhelm him.  Still, for Connor, even with how hard you tried to reign back what you were sharing with him, everything that came through was so much stronger than he ever expected.  It no longer confused him as to how you had put the android that attacked you into such a state of near self destruction, but he kept that to himself. He wasn’t about to open that wound right now, not like this.  Instead he accepted the things you showed him, letting them flow through him.

 

Guilt was a strong emotion. He’d felt guilt before, but he had no idea it could feel quite like this.  

 

Admiration wrapped around you and you blinked at Connor.  

 

**_You are so strong,_ ** he said.  You had no idea how to respond to that, but he felt it.  Uncertainty if he was right, but relief that he wasn’t upset, and a butterfly like emotion of shyness.  He smiled at you and lifted his other hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb against your skin for moment.

 

**_Now will you tell me why you refuse to go to sleep?_ **

 

You squinted at him again. 

 

_ Fine. _

 

You gripped the mental bridge with both hands and focused.  The feeling of exhaustion first, as much as you could remember it, bodily and mentally.  You felt Connor’s surprise at such a feeling, understanding dawning on his face, but you pushed his feeling aside before you got distracted.  Then you focused on the feeling of going to bed, laying down after a long day, curling up in your blankets, body screaming relief at the comfort of it all.  The memories you could recall of what it felt like to drift off to sleep, and then the peace and warmth inside of you when you were able to drift off to sleep in Connor’s arms.  Sleeping, being unaware of anything. 

 

Connor was in awe.  He hadn’t expected this either, hadn’t ever really thought that it was possible for him to understand what it felt like to truly be human.  His LED was yellow, trying to process all of these things he would never experience himself, even knowing that what you showed him was watered down as it came from your memories.  It was amazing.

 

Then you let your apprehension reach him, not that you could stop it.  This train of thought always led to one place, sadness. Upset at the fact that the idea of just laying in bed, fully awake, would never be the same as cuddling with him when you were tired, that switching off wouldn’t be the same as falling asleep, or that being aware of nothing was completely different from what it was like to sleep.

 

**_Oh._ **  Was all he said when it all finally reached him. 

 

You felt pity, no not pity, sympathy from Connor.  He could feel the metaphorical loss, he could feel your loss, and it hurt.  It hurt him. These were things he had never had, and as such couldn’t lose, but you did.  He wished he could have this with you, your memories were fond, happy, and while he knew there were always bad memories to accompany the good ones that didn’t change the fact that he felt your loss and he understood.  

 

Understanding and sympathy reached you and your dropped the bridge, feeling your hold on yourself waver.  If you didn’t let go now, emotions that were much worse, and much stronger than what Connor had just seen from you were going to blow apart your control.

 

**_No, don’t, not yet.  Please listen to me, let me show you what it's like, then you can decide,_ ** Connor pressed, reaching back for you through the interface while his eyes pleaded with you in the dim light of a street lamp.  You stopped pulling away.

 

You reached back for him, forging the bridge again, smaller than before, afraid of hurting him.  He wasted little time in pulling up his own memories of sleeping. They were much clearer than your own, almost as if you were experiencing it yourself in real time.  It was like powering down, not instantaneous, but still quick, darkness and nothingness, but it wasn’t like you were thinking, or aware, you could sort of sense that you were in standby mode, almost like those times when you were barely awake and could sort of sense that you were sleeping but also in your bed.  Time wasn’t something that was important, or something that you were aware of, and when you woke up, it was slightly slower than when you had gone to sleep. 

 

That wasn’t that bad.  Connor smiled at your realization, then showed you his own side of what it was like to sleep beside you, and wake up next to you.  Your eyes grew at the feelings from his memories, and then you got one clear image of you with sleepy eyes and massive bed head before he ended the interface.

 

“Oh my god!  Why do you have that!  Why would you show me that?” you exclaimed, hiding your face in your hands.

 

“Because you’re cute, and I wanted to make you smile,” Connor teased gently, pulling your hands away to reveal the small, mortified smile on your face.

 

You felt mentally drained.  You had shared so much, trusted him with so much, opened yourself up, and he’d shared nearly as much.  Your mind was having trouble organizing everything, and on top of that you felt alone. The interface may not have lasted that long, but it had been long enough that the feeling of Connor right there with you had become comforting, and welcome.  Now that it was gone and you were enclosed back in your own mind you felt two odd emotions. One of loss, and one of comfort; you could only liken it to the feeling of returning home after a busy and loud day, and revelling in what was your space, and being on your own.

 

“That was a lot,” you finally said, staring at your entwined hands, synthetic skin in place.  Connor hummed in agreement, it really was, there was a lot he was going to have to parse through later.  At the moment there was something else he needed to take care of first.

 

“So?” he asked.

 

“So….?” you asked back, looking back up at him.

 

“Will you get some rest?”  He looked at you intently and you just stared back at him.  

 

“I will give it a shot,” you promised.  “If it’s really like how you showed me, then I will try.”  Connor kissed you quickly on the lips before standing and pulling you up from the bench.  “Hey wait, I didn’t mean right now!” He smiled at you.

 

“I know, but I also know you will put it off as long as you can,” Connor pointed out.  You stuck your tongue out at his back, letting him drag you back to your apartment. Still, it was endearing in a way, and relieving to have him push you like this.  You knew very well that you would have put it off, knowing that this was something you needed to do, and just finding yourself unable to get yourself to do it.

  
  


The walk back to your apartment was quiet for the most part, interspersed with idle chatter about work, your’s and Connor’s friends, and questions Connor had about some of the things you had shown him.  You didn’t have any good answers for him, but it did a good job distracting you from the sinking mood that had threatened you minutes before.

  
  
  


Your bed was actually a little dusty since you hadn’t done much in your room besides change your clothing, only rarely laying on the mattress to stare at the ceiling.  You did your best to air it out, even turning on your bedroom fan, a sound you were accustomed to hearing when you slept. Connor had to take over after a moment so he could get you to change and stop procrastinating.  He was excited, and you could tell, but you weren’t entirely sure why. Truth be told, he had missed holding you and cuddling with you in bed. So when he finally got you to lay down you quickly found yourself pulled towards him.  It made you giggle around the tension in your chest. 

 

You didn’t feel tired, obviously, but you made yourself relax into his embrace and into the mattress.  Then you snuggled closer to him, realizing your limbs and neck wouldn’t get uncomfortable anymore and taking full advantage of that fact.  You felt Connor sigh happily and felt a pang. He’d missed this, and you’d fought him on every attempt at trying to get you to rest, even though it was for your own good.  

 

_ Better late than never right? _

 

_ I missed this too… _

 

_ I’m glad he still likes to cuddle even though I don’t smell like I used to. _

 

_ The bed smells like me. _

 

_ I don’t smell like me. _

 

_ And he’s ok with that? _

 

You hugged Connor tighter.  

 

“How...uh...how do I actually do this?” you asked him after a long while.  He explained the process for him, but really the memory he had shared with you earlier on what it felt like to go to sleep was what did the trick.  Using it as a trigger, something to try to replicate, you saw letters light up your interface:  **Entering Standby Mode** .  You realized you needed to set an alarm for work, but that realization made new letters appear:  **Time for Standby Mode Set for 5 Hours** .

 

_ Guess that solves that _ ., was the last thought you had before you were asleep fully.  Connor waited until you had gone to sleep to sleep himself, kissing your forehead before doing so.

 

When you awoke in the morning you laid there with your eyes closed.  It really hadn’t been that bad, and while you hated to admit it, you felt a little sharper, a little more put together for having slept.  Your experience was very similar to what Connor had shown you the night before, but you could have sworn at some point that you’d heard something.  Maybe seen something? When you asked Connor all he could tell you was that some androids reported memories playing while they slept. You guessed it was the closest thing to dreaming as androids could have, as you could have now,  you assumed, and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not. Still, excitement filled you with buzzing energy; you actually could sleep! Not just some computer powering down, but close enough to sleep that you could almost beat yourself over the head for being so stubborn.

 

Connor walked you to work for your shift, your relief and joy contagious, or maybe it was his that was contagious.  Either way, when you reached the bakery you stopped and stretched up to kiss him softly.

 

“Thank you,” you said.  The way you said it sounded like you weren’t just thanking him for getting you to rest.  He smiled.

 

“Of course.”

 

“I’ll see you later, ok?  I love you.” He blinked at your words, you’d never said that out loud to him before, but the blush on your face and the accompanying smile only served to turn what had been a stutter in his thirium pump at your words into an elated race of thirium.  He kissed you in return, hugging you close.

 

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com) OR at my new writing blog [Viv Writes](https://vividlywriting.tumblr.com) where I will answer asks about my writing and even take some prompts.
> 
> And if you like this story, I have a series of oneshots I've been working on! [More Than My Programming](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053845) And I've got a couple more things to go in there soon, so keep an eye out!
> 
>  
> 
> Last but not least, a long standing shout out to my friends, my beta readers, and the people with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda) who writes some fantastically fun oneshots and  
> [Em](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disillusionist9/pseuds/disillusionist9) ! Check 'em out guys! 
> 
> If you want a fun ReaderxConnor fic that promises mystery, angst, fluff, and wonderful comedic moments go check out [The Parent Trap](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15842634/chapters/36894789#workskin). I'm not saying I help provide some great oneliners, but I'm not saying I don't either ;]


	15. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Anastasia begins work at the bakery and you have a chat with Markus in the quiet of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My pace is slowing down a bit, but don't think I'm leaving this. I've got arcs for days planned out! I love your comments tho!! They give me life :] 
> 
> Fun bit, next chapter we get some holidays!

Ann was already inside the bakery when you walked in having had the opening shift with Trey.  You were given the mid shift, overlapping with the other two to cover the worst of the rush and close up with Robin.  With Ann in rotation trading shifts would be much easier, as would covering vacations and other time off needs for each other.  The bakery was closed on weekends usually, except for special orders, as it made most of its money on business days and holidays.  Plus, the location Marissa had snagged for the Luna Bakery was prime real estate for walk-ins. 

 

You were glad Marissa took you in, and ecstatic that she took Ann in too.  

 

At the moment Trey was handling the register, boxing up a customer's pastries.

 

“Where's Anastasia?” you asked, walking to behind the counter to clock in.

 

“In the back,” Trey gestured with his head and you raised an eyebrow at him.

 

“Handling it well then?”  Trey nodded in response.

 

“She’s good, really good!  Thank you, have a nice day!” Trey bid the customer farewell and then turned back to you.

 

“I already knew that,” you said smugly before dipping into the kitchen and grabbing your apron.  “Hey Ann!” Anastasia was checking the oven and turned a beaming smile on you when she turned around.  She rushed over and gave you a hug and then turned you around to tie your apron for you. You laughed trying to brush her off, but her ecstatic joy was contagious and you gave in easily.  

 

“You look like you got some rest,” she commented when she let you go and you looked to the side, and then the other side.  

 

“Yea,” you confirmed.

 

“Oh good, it’s about time.  I was getting worried,” she said, going to wash her hands.  

 

“I was fine,” you lied.  Anastasia snorted and cast you a look that only made the stubbornness in you prickle.  

 

“Sure, let’s go with that,” she chided, “and in a couple of days I’m sure any warning you received would have told you the same thing.”  Her sly reference to your interface made your lips pucker, but you knew she had a point. Resting had done wonders for you.

 

“The bread’s burning,” you said, changing the subject.

 

“No it isn’t, the timer hasn’t gone off!”

 

“Okay~” you sang, already stepping towards the fridge to get extra dough for a round two.  Your nose didn’t lie, and that timer in particular had been on the fritz of late. Ann looked at you and dried her hands, walking over the oven to check in spite of her insistence it was fine.

 

“Oh for the love of Ra9!” she exclaimed, yanking the oven door open and pulling out the tray of slightly darker than usual loaves.

 

“Yea, that timer’s been buggin’ lately, sometimes it works and sometimes it burns the bread.”  You handed her the tray of laid out and scored dough when she’d set her own tray on the cooling rack.  

 

“Thank you,” she said, and you smiled.  You picked up the timer and took it to Marissa’s office, leaving a note for her to replace or fix it when she had the chance.  When you returned to the kitchen Ann was shaking her head at the loaves. 

 

“Hey, don’t worry, they may not be the best, but they aren’t burnt that bad, there are plenty of people that would be grateful for some free food.  Even if it is just bread,” you smiled at your friend and patted her arm comfortingly. “Why don’t you take those out to the basket near the front, we have some regulars that stop by for the day olds and aesthetically unsellable stuff.”  Ann nodded, and took the loaves where you’d directed her.

 

You set about your own tasks after setting a different timer for the new loaves, prepping a station for the afternoon tarts.  You heard the door chime at the front, followed by Ann and Trey walking back into the kitchen. 

 

“What are you guys-”

 

“It's for you,” Trey said with a smirk and you looked at them in mock horror as Ann chuckled.  They were already ganging up on you. The end was nigh! You rolled your eyes and handed the basket of strawberries to Trey, grabbing a pair of gloves before going to help who ever it was at the front.

 

“Connor?”  It was indeed Connor who was standing near the counter looking at the display of what remained of the morning’s first batch.  He shrugged with a smile and you shook your head in mild humor. He’d only just left to go to work himself about fifteen minutes ago.  “What are you doing here?”

 

“I figured I would bring something in for Hank, you  _ know _ he doesn’t eat until lunch if he’s left to his own devices,” Connor said, straightening up.

 

“Yes, I know, but…” you stopped, you didn’t have to ask him why he’d come back, it was written in his smile.  You sighed and gathered a box of things you knew Hank would actually eat and rang Connor out, a soft smile on your face.  Then you walked around the counter to hand it to him. You almost wanted to laugh at how cheesy this all was, but at the same time, it was nice.  It reminded you of the times when Connor would meet you on your lunch break, even though he didn’t eat, and the station was a good distance from the bakery.  He took the box from you with a cheeky grin, leaning down quickly to steal a kiss before turning to leave. Your interface flashed, warning you of the spike in body temperature that resulted from Connor’s actions, but he grinned even more at your sudden blush.  You huffed, and he winked, which finally set you off and you started laughing. 

 

The two spying from the kitchen shared a grin and slipped back to their tasks.  You wished Connor farewell, telling him to not let Hank eat all of the pastries at once.

 

“Connor wait,” you said, calling him back for a moment.  He waited for you to tell him what was on your mind. “Do you have time to meet me for lunch today?”  You both knew that you didn’t eat, but he broke out into a wide smile regardless.

 

“Should nothing come up in our cases, I would love to.”  With that settled he left for work, for real this time, and you returned to the back to continue with what you had been doing, letting Trey return to his station in the front, but not without pelting him with your gloves first.  Trey grabbed for the gloves before they hit him and only succeeded in knocking one out of the way and onto the ground. You heard him call after you with an exasperated, “HEY!”, followed by grumbling that made you snort.

 

As you set about to start your own tasks you learned about Ann’s first opening shift with Trey.  You weren’t surprised to hear it had gone quite well. You’d known she would mesh well with your family here at the bakery considering who she was close with back at Haven.  Not to mention, as an android, she only had to be told once what the opening shift duties were and she’d have them under lock for the rest of her life. 

 

Working with Anastasia was better than you’d hoped, almost like bringing two parts of your life closer together, her polite and mild teasing manner with Trey kept you entertained, and her encouragement of Trey’s embarrassing stories of you kept you mortified throughout those hours you were all working together.  It felt nice, though. Right, in a way. Anastasia was quick in the kitchen and eager to learn, she understood that while she might have recipes built into her programming, the difference between a common recipe and how it is changed from person to person to produce different and sometimes higher quality goods were very important.  Even techniques that she had that looked like a page to life simulation of baking she tweaked to match the way you and Trey handled different things. By the fourth day she was showing you more efficient ways to do other tasks as well. It wasn’t that productivity spiked suddenly with Ann in the kitchen - after all get you and Trey in a room and it’s a wonder anything gets done - but the efficiency of the work you all did increased leaving Marissa pleased with the results of her new hire.

 

You didn’t sleep since that one night Connor essentially forced you to for a few days. It wasn’t that you refused to, you just didn’t feel a need to.  More like you were riding an emotional high, one that wasn’t missed by those closest to you. And you weren't magically healed either. You still had moments when the undercurrent of emotional turmoil threatened to rear up and drag you down, but in spite of that you felt lighter in way.  It was a lightness that came from sharing your burden, from being understood and being loved in spite of, or maybe even because of the fact that there was more understanding. It was a lightness that came from being able to share part of your life with a friend, being able to have someone that knew your secret and help you keep it.  Perhaps it was also a lightness that came from resting, and letting your mind and systems refresh, clearing out what had become a seemingly never ending cascade of stress and anxiety.

 

_ Have you tried turning it off and on again? _

 

Whatever the reasons were, this gift horse got to keep its mouth shut.

 

Anastasia’s first day with Robin learning the closing shift was the day you decided to sleep again. You were pacing your house nonstop, worried about things out of your control.  Your pacing took you out of your house and to a stop in front of Haven. You knew your friends were inside, many of them likely still awake, but once again you couldn’t bring yourself to go in.  The well lit buildings exuded a welcoming aura, but you couldn’t make it past the dense bubble of warning that your subconscious had built for itself. 

 

Why was this so hard?

 

Why couldn’t you get past this?

 

You paced for a few minutes, debating what to do.  

 

_ Could just go to sleep?  _

 

_ That’s a thing now. _

 

_ I just don’t want to be afraid forever. _

 

_ What did they even do with the android that attacked me? _

 

_ If I knew would it make it any better? _

 

_ No one else has tried anything since then… _

 

_ That doesn’t wash away the mark of what did happen. _

 

_ Need to go to sleep. _

 

You heard a ringing noise, that took you only a second to recognize as coming from within your head.  You hadn’t meant to call anyone, and truth be told you had made it a point not to call anyone via your android software since the first time.  Groaning, you tried to dismiss the call, end it before whoever was unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end picked up.

 

“____?  Are you alright?” 

 

You swore and threw your hands up in the air at whichever cosmic was having a laugh.

 

“Oh hi Markus,” you said, keeping your voice cheerful.  “I'm fine, sorry I don't know why my systems called you, I don't even use this feature.”

 

_ Why did I call Markus?! _

 

_ I could have called North. _

 

_ Why didn’t I call North? _

 

_ Fuck! _

 

_ Just turn around and go home and go the fuck to sleep.   _

 

“You don’t sound alright,” Markus prodded and you scowled.  “See, I’m right.” Your brow furrowed.

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Well, I may not be the best judge of someone’s emotional state, but it looks to me as if there is something bothering you.”  He sounded serious, and close. Then again he was in your head.

 

“Looks…?” you questioned and turned look around.  You shrieked and clutched at your thirium pump. “MARKUS!”  The call ended, by the android standing only a few feet from you you assumed.  Markus looked conflicted, as if he wasn't sure what to say to your reaction. Then he snorted, quickly covering his mouth.

 

“Sorry, just never had anyone react to seeing me like that before,” he confessed.

 

“Ha ha, very fuckin funny.  I'm sorry I can't sneak up on you and scare  _ you  _ like a murderer in a horror movie,” you grumbled.

 

“What?” he asked in alarm.

 

“Movie tropes, nevermind.”  You waved off his concern. “Don’t tell me you came down here in the two seconds of the call.” 

 

“Actually, no.  I was on my way back from checking on the shipment of spare biocomponents that we had been expecting,” Markus said.  He gestured to you to follow him and after a moment you complied, joining him on the curb outside of the building.

 

“Don’t you have people to do that?” you asked, leaning back on your hands.  Your palms dug into the concrete and you noted the texture. Your mind told you it was rough, memory told you it was rough, but it didn’t feel quite the same.  Without a nervous system to translate pain the concrete only felt textured, it felt wrong. You shook your head of the thought, it wasn’t a track you needed to get distracted on right now, even if it wasn’t a new thought.

 

“I do,” Markus said, mimicking your pose and looking up at the sky.  “But I don’t often get time to myself, so checking on the shipments gives me time to walk in peace.  It’s quieter at night.” You nodded, understanding. “So,” he continued, his eyes shifted to the side to look at you, “why  _ did _ you call me?”  You frowned again.

 

“I didn’t...I mean I didn’t mean to,” you said.

 

“Let’s try this then, what were you doing outside of Haven?”  Now he was looking at you, gauging the way your frown deepened.

 

“I don’t know…”

 

“Why didn’t you go inside?”

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Well, would you like to go in now?”   
  
“No!”

 

You looked at Markus quickly, your harsh refusal ringing in your ears.  He looked surprised, but his position didn’t change. You sighed.

 

“I don’t expect you to understand, because I don’t really understand.  It’s easier to visit in the day, at night I just...can’t? I don’t really know if I’m afraid or what but…” you trailed off and then sat straight up.  “Why are you here Markus? You don’t have to sit here and listen to my messed up problems.”

 

“Don’t have to, you’re right. I’m not leaving though,” Markus replied, the corner of his mouth lifting in a slight smile.  “You’re also right, I don’t understand, I can try though.” You mouth pinched for a second and shifted to the side. 

 

“I can’t really explain what I don’t understand, dude,” you said finally.  “I mean...sure Dr. Leland talked with me about it, but that doesn’t mean I still really understand it.”  You rubbed your thumb against the sidewalk absentmindedly, looking for the roughness you knew was there. 

 

“What makes it different from the day time?” Markus asked.  

 

“I don’t know, the night is just different from the day, yknow?”  You looked at Markus, but he didn’t react and your groaned. “Look it’s like, in the day the bad shit happened, right?  Yea. But the day hides more than the night does and at night it's like all I see is danger. Darkness in a place where there’s supposed to be light.  There’s more people in the day and less at night and during night everything becomes brutally honest. It’s like...I had no problem going out on my own in the daytime before, but at night going alone was dangerous, and filled me with fear because of what could happen.  Now I don’t worry about that because of...well...I’m better equipped, but here? I’m not equipped, being here in the daylight still makes my stomach churn and sometimes I still panic when I think I see him.”

 

You didn’t tell Markus that you also weren’t afraid of going on your own at night because your sense of vulnerability, of self preservation had skewed greatly since your accident.

 

“I can’t explain what I’m feeling properly, Markus.  It’s like in the day time it’s easier to pretend things can be ok and at night all of that is stripped bare just like I was, and it wraps it's grubby little fucking hand around my heart and squeezes!  It’s like I’m afraid that the quiet and emptiness that could face me inside is a black hole just  _ waiting _ for me to walk close enough to tear me apart again.  I don’t know if you’d noticed, you’re pretty busy so it’s ok if you didn’t, but I don’t go anywhere alone in there even when I do visit.”  Your voice had risen in volume and irritation the more you spoke and then petered back off at the end. Markus was silent, staring at you pulled your knees up and dropped your forehead to them.

 

“I told you it made no sense!” you reiterated.  Then he spoke up.

 

“I don’t think it makes  _ no _ sense,” Markus said thoughtfully.  “I can’t pretend to know of a way to help you either, I’m sorry.”  

 

You laughed dryly and turned your head to look up at your friend’s apologetic expression. “I didn’t come here looking for a solution, Markus, but thanks.”  You fell silent again. 

 

“He isn’t here anymore by the way,” Markus said after a moment.  “I’m sorry no one told you, it was rather recent, but he was taken away by an RT-600 model android.”

 

“What!?”  You sat up again, staring at Markus in confusion, he shrugged.

 

“He was a danger to himself and others after he assaulted you. We had to keep him locked up in holding.  He’s been taken away for diagnostics and more appropriate holdings.” 

 

Your stare turned to one of disbelief and then relief.  He was actually gone. He’d actually been taken away to pay for what he did.

 

_ Apparently what he did to me was bad enough to send him to fucking prison, or near abouts. _

 

_ I can’t believe I’m counted equal enough for him to have received such treatment. _

 

_ I can’t believe he’s still damaged after what he did to me. _

 

_ I should feel bad for enjoying that thought. _

 

_ I don’t. _

 

“He’s...really gone?” you asked Markus, not asking more on the details.  If there had been anything else he would have told you, you knew that. Markus nodded.  You looked at the door to the building not far from the two of you, and despite the relief knowing you wouldn’t have to face that android again you still felt something grip your heart squeeze, tugging it up into your throat.

 

“I still don’t think that will change this,” you admitted quietly.  “But it’s a relief regardless.” You looked at Markus. “Thank you for telling me, for sitting with me.”  Now your friend smiled fully.

  
  


You sat with Markus for a short while more, not talking about much, but not talking about yourself either.  Sitting outside of Haven like you were, with your friend, it was easier than you’d thought it would be. That didn’t stop you from worrying that you’d annoyed Markus with unloading your problems after you’d left him.  Yet when you returned home, the painting he’d made of you, for you, hung there on your wall beside the mess that was your own soothed that worry away. Good and bad, your friends were still trying to be there for you. 

 

So you didn’t go to sleep that night, but you did something you hadn’t in a long while.  You pulled one of your books off of your now rather dusty bookshelf. Books given to you from your parents and their own massive collection, stubborn in their refusal to get rid of them all.  It was a familiar tale, one your mother had read to you often when you were little.

 

You finished the book as the sun rose and your alarm went off to remind you of your opening shift with Trey.  You wouldn’t see Anastasia that day, but you held less concern for what the day could hold than you did.

 

Opening your door to head out brought you face to face with Connor, his hand poised to knock on your door.

 

“Hey babe, what..uh….what’re you doin here?” you asked, giggling at the surprise that Connor quickly shook from his face.  He replaced it with a soft smile.

 

“I was hoping to walk you to work,” he admitted.  You grinned up at him. Sure the daylight made things easier to hide, but it didn’t have to.  

 

“I’d love that, but only if you let me lock my door first,” you said.  “Scootch.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com) OR at my new writing blog [Viv Writes](https://vividlywriting.tumblr.com) where I will answer asks about my writing and even take some prompts.
> 
> And if you like this story, I have a series of oneshots I've been working on! [More Than My Programming](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053845) And I've got a couple more things to go in there soon, so keep an eye out!
> 
>  
> 
> Last but not least, a long standing shout out to my friends, my beta readers, and the people with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda) who writes some fantastically fun oneshots and  
> [Em](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disillusionist9/pseuds/disillusionist9) ! Check 'em out guys! 
> 
> If you want a fun ReaderxConnor fic that promises mystery, angst, fluff, and wonderful comedic moments go check out [The Parent Trap](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15842634/chapters/36894789#workskin). I'm not saying I help provide some great oneliners, but I'm not saying I don't either ;]


	16. Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The holidays are comin up fast and Hank can't shake you from trying to involve him and Connor in the celebrations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry for the long pause I went on a trip with some friends and was so far away that i was 6 hours behind my normal time zone and BOI am i wiped!
> 
> Anyway, back to our regularly scheduled angst fest!

“Two weeks down it’s payday!” Trey shouted, clapping you and Anastasia on the back making you jump, and your friend laugh.

 

“No fucking way,” you said, shocked.  “Two weeks?! Already? But you just started!” you exclaimed, whirling on Anastasia who was laughing harder now.  “Holy shit,” you whispered.

 

“Yes, these past two weeks have gone by rather quickly,” she said, smiling.

 

“Huh,” you said with a shake of your head.  Two weeks already. They had honestly been the better two consecutive weeks you’d had of late.

 

So when two weeks became four, and four became two months, you almost found yourself looking for things that were wrong, or that could go wrong.  Dr. Leland told you that it was alright to enjoy the good times, but expending energy looking for the bad would only dampen the good. She was right, of course, and yet it wasn’t just that easy.  Unlearning deep rooted instincts that put you on edge was nigh near impossible in your books, so you didn’t focus on trying to stop, you didn’t even focus on trying to ignore it. No, you let that apprehension sit at the back of your mind and put your focus on what was happening.  It was hard, when all you wanted to do was laugh, have a good time, yet you felt a weight that gouged all the joy out of the moment. But the thing was, you weren’t alone.

 

Your friends were patient. They learned to notice when that apprehension seemed to grow heavier and they gave you what you needed as they could.  A distraction, a laugh, a smile, a compliment, space. They weren’t perfect, but neither were you, and having the care of your friends both human and android alike helped in ways you didn’t even realize at first.  

 

The acceptance your friends showed you, subtle as it was, gave you the tools you needed to breathe a little easier rather than worry that you were going to be found out as a fraud.

 

It was one late afternoon while you were decorating Hank’s house for Halloween, something the man relentlessly told you was pointless due to his disinterest in the holiday, that you caught onto Hank’s own brand of lowkey support.  

 

“Hank, why are you so against celebrating the holidays?” you asked, stringing fake spider webs across the outsides of his windows. 

 

“What’s the point?  Even if I wasn’t working, what would I do?  Sit at home and drink and watch bad horror movies?” Hank asked dryly, watching you from where he sat on his doorstep.  Sumo laid on the porch near Hank gnawing on a bone you’d brought for the beast along with all of the decorations.

 

“The  _ point, _ my good drunk, is having a good time with friends and family.  Dress up, eat candy, watch shitty movies, get drunk, enable kids and their sweet tooths, yada yada yada.” You waved a fuzzy ball of the spider webs around as you spoke, moving to apply it to a bush nearby.   
  
“And  _ my _ point, is that there is no point,” Hank said.

 

“Bullshit, you sour puss!”  You threw the ball of spider webs at him but being light as it was it went four inches before floating gently down.  Hank barked a laugh at your attempt, earning a soft woof from Sumo. “Who else am I going to watch shitty movies with?” you asked, ignoring the two of them and picking back up the spider webs, now covered in dirt.

 

“Aren’t your friends over at Haven doing anything?  Why’s it gotta be me?” Hank picked his beer up before Sumo could knock it over with his tail as the massive dog rolled over with his treat.  

 

“They are, I’m going to hang out with them during the day, but it’d be nice to do something Halloween night,” you affirmed.  You didn’t elaborate as to why you weren’t going to be staying the night there for the celebrations like you had the year before.  “And I know you have the night off Hank, Connor told me.” You turned a shit eating grin on Hank with that and walked over to him to dig in your bag of decorations for the fake spiders.

 

“That little shit,” Hank grumbled.  “What makes you think I don’t intend to just sleep then?”  That gave you pause. If he really didn’t want to do anything for Halloween you weren’t going to make him.

 

“Well, if that’s the case, then just turn your lights off and the kids won’t come to your house looking for candy.  I’ll clean all this up on the first,” you said with a shrug. 

 

“Why’d you even bring this shit to my house in the first place?  You have your own place, you coulda hosted some movie night thing there.”

 

“You’re right, but I live in an apartment with little outside real estate for decorations.  Besides,” you said, “you wouldn’t believe how much I’ve saved not having to eat food. I’ve never been able to afford decorations like this before!  There was no way I was going to pass this up!” Your voice rose enthusiastically, hiding the twinge of pain about not being able to eat with your love of the season of spook.  Hank was silent. “I got carried away though, bought some candy out of excitement, then I remembered I couldn’t actually enjoy it,” you laughed. It was a strained laugh that didn’t go unnoticed, but you carried on as if it had never happened, sticking spiders in the fake webbing in strategically random places.

 

“You got any Reeses in there?” Hank asked after a moment, almost hesitantly.

 

“Of course, help yourself,” you said without turning to look.  You heard the bag rustle and then the sound of the bag of candy being torn open.  A few Reeses Cups later you heard your bag of Halloween goodies rustling again as Hank dug through it to inspect what you’d brought to cover his house in.

 

“Where the fuck did you find this?!” he asked suddenly and you turned to look and saw he was holding up an old DvD, reading the back of it like he’d been handed the holy grail.  

 

“Thrift store, I’ve seen clips from it online for years now but never the actual film, figured I’d watch it for Halloween.  Seemed good for a laugh,” you walked over to grab the next bit of decoration from the bag. 

 

“Well shit,” Hank chuckled, turning the case over again.  “Alright, fine, why don’t we pick you up before sundown from Haven, we’ll watch your shitty movies, see if we can scare Connor at all.”  Hank didn’t look up from the movie case in his hand, but his words reached you perfectly fine.    
  
Before sundown?

 

That would be perfect.  Oddly, specifically perfect.  It wasn’t like you were a child that couldn’t be out at night on your own.  Your gut twisted for a second, wondering if Hank knew about your aversion to visiting Haven at night or if this was just luck.  He’d never brought it up, and you had never told him about the assault, not wanting to get him involved and stress him out more.  Shoving all the spawning worries aside you focused on the matter at hand and beamed at him.

 

“YES!  That’d be awesome!!  But I doubt you could scare Connor even if he was asleep.”  Hank didn’t respond.

 

“Shit,” Hank said to himself.  “I haven’t seen this in years. This is going to be fuckin awful, it's great!”

 

You went back to decorating the porch, relieved that Hank had agreed to your plans.

 

When you were no longer paying attention, Hank’s smile returned to his usual almost frown.  He actually didn’t mind having company on Halloween, and seeing you decorate his house much like he’d done with Cole all those years ago stirred something in him that reminded him how much he missed having someone to share the time with.  Sure he had Connor, and trying to placate Connor’s curiosity about the holidays had been a whole endeavor in and of itself, but it wasn’t the same. His jokes had often fallen flat with the android. 

 

Having both Connor  _ and  _ you in the house gave him that odd warm and proud feeling that came with seeing your child excel at something, as being able to share your awful humor with them, and worry about their well being.  So when Connor had told Hank about that day at Haven, Hank had found himself enraged, with half a mind to find the android that had attacked you and either beat it to shit or haul it off to jail. Knowing that Markus was taking care of it did little to soothe Hank’s anger, but he agreed it was for the best.  The thing was, he didn’t know what to do about you. He wasn’t your father, he was more of a friend, but he had no idea how to help you. At Connor’s behest he gave you time, and when you never brought it up Hank did his best not to take it personally. 

 

What he did do was pay attention, noticing the increase in visits, the way you’d grown more sullen just as you had begun to open up again.  He found he didn’t mind taking part in your little get togethers of movies or shows, didn’t get as annoyed when he’d come home to see you were cooking food and feeding treats to Sumo.  He was happy that in those moments you were happy, that you’d found peace. 

 

It didn’t take a genius to put together what was really behind your Halloween movie night plan.  You didn’t want to be at Haven at night, something Connor had pointed out to Hank some time ago, but you also didn’t want to burden your friends there by trying to take them away from the festivities just because you weren’t comfortable staying there overnight.  It was also no secret that you tried to include Hank in as many things as you thought you could get away with, refusing to leave the old man to his lonely devices, something he appreciated even if he never said so. A double pronged plan, keep yourself from feeling guilty and depressed while doing the same for Hank.  It was a good plan, and he would have agreed either way having had a few films in his own mind that he’d planned to show Connor at some point to see his logical analysis of the films collapse under how awful the plots were. He wished he could do more to help you, but knowing how hard it was to get yourself to a point where you can work with your mental illnesses he was content to these small things.  

 

Besides, it would be nice to spend the night with his family.

 

When Connor returned home he eagerly tried to help you decorate, not having done so before.  Hank choked on his beer when Connor somehow managed to tangle himself in the fake webbing from a bush, tripping himself while you laughed hard enough that actually helping the android out of his spider themed binds became a nearly futile task. 

  
  


Not long after that Hank had returned home to find you decorating his house for Halloween you took a note out of Hank’s book.  Connor had left to run some errands and you had elected to stay behind, feeling a sense of peace watching one of Hank’s old “classics”.  You wouldn’t call the film a classic yourself, it still made its rounds on the internet as a fuel for jokes, but you still enjoyed it. You had gone to the restroom to wash your hands after Sumo had removed himself from your lap and stared at the sticky notes Hank had on his mirror.  They weren’t all encouraging, and you remembered when you’d first seen them how they had made you laugh. Now though there was one missing. You weren’t sure if Connor had taken it down or if Hank had. 

 

“I’m not grumpy, I just don’t like you.”

 

You stared at that empty spot long enough that Hank asked if you’d “fallen in the fuckin toilet”.  You just flipped him off when you walked back out, earning yourself a chuckle for your efforts.

 

The thing about the notes though that had sat with you even after you’d first seen them, and again now while you watched the film with Hank, was that hand written notes like he had written were things he essentially told himself everyday.  Even if they weren’t always good, they weren’t all bad either. At some point Hank had wanted to believe that each day was going to be a good one, so he told himself every morning that it was going to be fabulous just by reading the note he had written.  The note that was missing, he’d told himself everyday that he didn’t like himself. Now that note was gone. Did it mean Hank liked himself more now? You weren’t sure, you liked to think so, but more importantly he didn’t hate himself enough to remind himself every time he looked in the mirror.

 

You started quoting along with the movie, knowing it would piss Hank off, but it was all in good fun, and it broke the tension you’d felt building inside.  Connor returned with groceries after it ended so before you left to return home you cooked dinner for Hank. Afterwards you rummaged around in Hank’s kitchen drawers and found the sticky note pad.  When you asked if you could have it he only waved you off, saying “sure”. Immediately you started writing on the pad. This was going to come in handy.

 

As you were heading out, you snuck back into the bathroom and replaced Hank’s missing sticky note.  

 

“You may be grumpy, but I still like you.”

 

You hoped he’d keep it up.  You hoped he’d take it heart.

 

Then you put a bunch of notes up on your own mirror at home.

 

“I am Strong.”   
“I am Alive.”   
“I am Healing.”   
“I am Loved.”   
  


And you’d stared at them long and hard, even when Connor knocked on the door jam of the bathroom to see if you were ok.  When he saw what you’d put up on your mirror he hugged you from behind and kissed you on the cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder with a small smile.  

 

One step at a time, apprehension or no, you could do this.   
  
Not long after that you told Dr. Leland that you wanted to stop the visits.  You felt as if you were at a point that you could continue on your own. It wasn’t like you didn’t still have bad days, or weeks, or episodes, but you knew what Dr. Leland was going to say by this point, and even if you didn’t know fully how to implement the tools she had given you to help yourself, you had them, and you  _ did _ know that over time you would know how to use them.  It wasn’t her job to keep you in therapy if you didn’t want it, but she did tell you that if at any time you wanted to talk, you knew exactly how to reach her.

 

You liked Dr. Leland. Without her you didn’t think you would be where you were now.  So now it was time to stand on your own. Or so you told yourself.

 

Carol was more biased and in favor of your decision, only choosing to smile during that last session with Dr. Leland.  She was pleased with your growth in faculty control over your body and she was even closer at hand than Dr. Leland was in a pinch what with her shifts at Haven, so you both knew that if something came up you knew where to go for help, but besides actual hardware maintenance, Carol had stopped being of help with your body some time ago.  Your android friends, Connor in particular, had taken up the mantle of answering your questions with gusto. 

 

You asked Connor things like, “Do androids need to intake clean Thirium every so often like a car needs an oil change?”  and “Is the only way to replace lost thirium to drink it?” 

 

“What did it feel like to have a limb replaced?”   
  
“Is there really no way for androids to feel pain?”   
  
“How do you purposefully initiate a call?”

 

“How is it even possible to have access to the world’s knowledge and internet and not go crazy?”

 

“Can you send texts by just thinking about it?  How? Is it possible to turn these features off so you stop doing them accidently?”

 

“What do things feel like to someone who’s never had the human equivalent of comparison?”

 

The answers to these questions and more were a mix of beneficial and fruitless inquiries.  You ended up asking a few of your android friends these questions as well as Connor just to get a comparison of information.  On the brightside, Connor was able to help you learn how to turn off and on different features in your software. Something Carol had been unable to do.  After some debate you left everything on except your access to the internet. It was cumbersome in your opinion, now that you had perfect recall memories and what felt like near infinite memory storage you already had more space in your head than you were used to.  Even though you had been able to reconcile the feeling of memory access, there was an odd gaping abyss that seemed to always hover at the back of your mind. A hole you could fall into, too much space, too much everything, and nothing, a taunting expanse that promised knowledge should you ever need it.  You’d managed to learn to ignore it, but when you turned off that feature for instant, mental, internet access, you felt more like yourself than you had in awhile. Sure there was still more space and more things inside you than you were used to, but they were contained, and that made you feel more secure with yourself than you had been.

 

Then there were things you asked your friends that you were too embarrassed to ask Connor.  Things you had never thought to ask Connor. Things like, “Do androids get horny?” Do androids ever experience physical needs or wants?”

 

As a human you knew what carnal needs felt like, even just the need for physical contact, so you’d become aware that the things you desired, felt need for, came mostly from your psyche.  Being with Connor you had assumed that he felt things to a degree but had never asked him, afraid that he would tell you he merely simulated it to partake in the relationship more naturally.  Of course you were relieved to know it was possible, you just weren’t surprised to know that there was a difference. Androids didn’t release chemicals and hormones when their needs were met, not the way humans did.  This of course made you worried. You still enjoyed being held by Connor, kissing him, laying your head on your friends’ laps when boredom reigned supreme, but you hadn’t understood why you still felt satisfied mental responses to such actions until Simon equated it to simulated chemicals in the form of coded and electrical messages.

 

A lot of things you did that set you apart from androids as a whole happened because your mind already knew what responses to expect and send which allowed your software to better replicate them as needed.  Androids only knew of these responses, and learning to develop the instinctual responses to things like you had took time, and weren’t always as deep as they would be if they had the chemical reaction memories to base from.

 

You also asked your friends if there were ways to hide things from an interface, or ways to guarantee not starting one without actually trying.  The first question was positive, but only if the other party wasn’t actively searching for information. You didn’t want uncontained emotions and thoughts, as wild and unpredictable as yours could be hurting Connor.  You also despised the idea of every part of you being accessible so easily when the same wasn’t true for true androids. Your friends offered to help you learn how to better control the interfaces, but it would have required you to interface with them and you weren’t ready for that.  You weren’t ready for anyone else to see you, not even thinking about how much trust and intimacy went into and interface like that. So you practiced in theory.

 

Your other question came back negative.  Without being completely in tune with yourself and your software it was hard to contain an interface initiation started by emotions.

 

The more questions you asked about your body, about things you could do, whether or not you tried them, the more enthusiastic they became.  It almost scared you that you would be letting them down in someway by not expressing more curiosity than the odd question.   
  
The holidays were fast upon you now.  The bakery was receiving bigger orders for events and dinners and there always seemed to be a customer at the front.  You didn’t mind working more while the seasonals were brought in to help with the big orders, it made you feel useful.  What you weren’t saying, though, was that by working more you could distract from the fact that holidays meant family, and family meant your parents, who you hadn’t spoken to in months.

 

After the accident you’d answered their calls, nerves and fear making it hard to respond during those brief conversations.  As quickly as you could you avoided their calls, returning their voicemails with texts. When the conversations stuck to text messaging, you’d slowly stopped talking all together.  You weren’t ignoring your parents, or so you would say, but you answered their messages with brief and short responses and when they stopped initiating conversation, you didn’t bother.

 

But the holidays were nearly here, and you hadn’t spent more than a few holidays away from your parents in your life.  You doubted they were going to let you hide from this one. And true to form, three weeks before Thanksgiving you received a text from your mother asking how you were.

 

You didn’t respond.

 

The next day she texted you again asking if you were alright.

 

You responded with, “yup, doing fine”.

 

Then there had been radio silence for two days, followed by a text asking if you were coming home for Thanksgiving.

 

Your response was: “i’m not feeling too well actually, been under a lot of stress and i think i’ll just hang out with friends for the night”.

 

You had hoped that would be the end of it.  

 

The week before Thanksgiving you had drawn the short straw and were covering the front of the bakery while everyone else, and yes you meant Marissa, Ann, Trey, Robin, and a couple of the seasonals, were helping load up the last big order of the week into the delivery truck, you’d looked up from your phone from behind the register at the sound of the door chiming.  Thinking it was Connor, stopping by to pick up breakfast for Hank as he did sporadically you looked up with a large smile.

 

A large smile that froze in place as your eyes opened wide and fear sent warning after warning onto your interface about the too quick pulse of your thirium pump and the rise in body temperature as a result.

 

Yes, Connor was at the door, but his smile was equally frozen in place as his eyes darted from you to the people he had walked in with.  

 

Your parents.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come find me on tumblr if you'd like! same username: [VividlyLost](https://vividlylost.tumblr.com) OR at my new writing blog [Viv Writes](https://vividlywriting.tumblr.com) where I will answer asks about my writing and even take some prompts.
> 
> And if you like this story, I have a series of oneshots I've been working on! [More Than My Programming](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053845) And I've got a couple more things to go in there soon, so keep an eye out!
> 
>  
> 
> Last but not least, a long standing shout out to my friends, my beta readers, and the people with whom many of my ideas are shown and grown, [VampireZelda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampireZelda) who writes some fantastically fun oneshots and  
> [Em](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disillusionist9/pseuds/disillusionist9) ! Check 'em out guys! 
> 
> If you want a fun ReaderxConnor fic that promises mystery, angst, fluff, and wonderful comedic moments go check out [The Parent Trap](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15842634/chapters/36894789#workskin). I'm not saying I help provide some great oneliners, but I'm not saying I don't either ;]


	17. Familial Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter our reader comes face to face with her parent since the accident, while the entire bakery, plus Connor, watches on. With her blood now Blue, will her parents still accept her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even though I am in a funk, I refuse to let this story go. No matter how slow I become with posting, I will post, and this story will come to its natural end. Your comments and enthusiasm for this story do wonders to spark my own enthusiasm and motivation. So thank you! Truly, it means the world that you guys enjoy this story so much!
> 
> A/N
> 
> This chapter is emotionally charged in a different way than previous chapters. Anyone who has had to face rejection from your parents, or loved ones for coming out to them as something other than what they thought or wanted you to be, then this might hit a little close to home theme wise. Not that that was my intention, but it was brought to my attention by my beta reader. So I hope I handled this well in terms of themes and emotions.

You stared, face frozen in the smile of greeting a customer while your eyes darted from one person to the other in panic.  

 

How had this happened???

 

_ Why would Connor do this??! _

 

You caught the subtle shake of Connor's head.

 

No, this wasn't on Connor.  He had nothing to do with this.

 

“____!” your mother said loudly, a stern look on her face.  “Well I’m glad to see you are alright! Though I have to say I am very disappointed that I had to track you down at work just to see my own daughter.”  You swallowed thickly.

 

“Hey mom,” you forced out.  “Dad.”

 

“Pumpkin,” your father said, smiling gently.

 

“Sorry, I’ve been busy-”   
  
“Too busy to join us for Thanksgiving this year?” your mother asked and when you opened and closed your mouth, unable to form a rebuttal she relented.  “It’s alright, you’re well past grown at this point. Come give us a hug!” She opened her arms expectantly and you paused before walking stiffly around the counter to them.  You barely registered the fact that Marissa and Anastasia has walked out of the kitchen to join you all, you were focused on the task at hand, the fear you were being forced to face.  As you drew closer to your parents you saw your mother’s brow furrow and her hands fall back to her side. Her eyes darted along your form, searching your face, flicking to your dad who had cocked his head a little in confusion.  Something was off, and they were trying to place it.

 

You.

 

You felt your face heat up in warning of the tears that were building.  This could go so wrong. This  _ was _ going so wrong.

 

_ They know. _

 

_ Oh god they know. _

 

_ Why didn’t Connor warn me? _ _   
_ _   
_ _ I can’t do this.  It’s all over. I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’- _ _   
_ __   
That thought repeated over and over in your head until you came to a stop just out of reach of your parents.     
  
“Pumpkin?” you father asked, stepping forward.  You looked to Connor who was already crossing the distance to join you.  Your mother walked forward, concern overwriting her confusion and she pulled you into a hug before Connor could reach you.  You shook, holding back the tears as she embraced you.

 

“Honey, what’s wrong?” she asked when you said nothing, when you clung to her.

 

_ If she can’t look at me she won’t know. _

 

_ She already knows something is wrong. _

 

_ I’m so scared. _

 

_ I should have told them! _

 

Without a word she hugged you tighter, giving you as much warmth and support as she could.

 

And then she froze, stiffening in place.

 

You heard her breath in deep and the domino finally tipped, the chain reaction begun.  She pushed you back, holding you at arms length and looked at you again, recognition and loss dawning on her face.

 

“____….you,” she began, hands tightening on your shoulders.

 

“Mom wait, listen, I- I can explain!” you said hurriedly, voice cracking.  

 

“What happened to you?” she asked.  Now you father was stepping closer, his own eyes picking up the differences, though he kept his mouth shut.

 

“There was an accident.”   
  
“AN ACCIDENT?” your mother exclaimed.

 

“I was hit by a car,” you confessed, throat tight.

 

“When!  When did this happen?!”

 

“What the hell?  Why didn’t you tell us?” your father added on.  You flinched at the accusation in their voices and Connor stepped up quietly, pulling you free from your mother’s death grip.  You were grateful that there were no customers in the shop at the moment, and mortified that your coworkers were.

 

“Mrs. ____, you’re hurting her,” he supplied when her biting gaze turned on him.  The lie fell from his lips so easily, but if you asked he would just say that, emotionally, they were hurting you, so it wasn’t a lie.  Guilt clouded your mother’s face for a moment, but that didn’t mean she was done with you.

 

“Tell me what happened,” she said firmly.  

  
A heavy silence hung in the air of the bakery, all of your coworkers were now watching the scene, waiting to hear the story you wouldn’t tell them.  All but Connor and Anastasia, whose faces were neutral in complete opposition to the rapid fire, panicked simulations running through their minds. You swallowed again, chewing on your bottom lip out of nervous habit and told your parents, your friends, about the accident.  You explained what had happened, the car that didn’t stop in time because the AI system had run the numbers and your safety had paled in comparison to the passengers on board.

 

Connor had to step in to fill in the blanks of what happened upon impact, trying his best to deliver the barest of details without upsetting your parents.  You couldn’t be more proud of him for using what he had learned on emotional tact since deviating, but it was a short lived pride as you flinched at the sharp intake of breath from your mother.  You told your parents that you went to the hospital, that things were bad, you told them you didn’t really remember much between getting hit and waking up some time later.

 

Then came the question, “Why didn’t you call us?”

 

“I didn’t want you to worry, I was afraid,” you forced out.  Your parents looked at your incredulously.

 

“Afraid?  Afraid of what?” your father asked.

 

“I-” 

 

_ I was afraid you wouldn’t love me anymore if you learned what happened. _

 

“I was afraid of how you would react, afraid of hurting you,” you said instead.

 

“Oh, Pumpkin,” your father said, “we would have worried, sure, but you couldn’t have hurt us-”  Your mother waved her hand to cut your father off.

 

“What happened?” she asked simply, and yet you could tell she was already putting it together.  From the moment she saw you, the moment she held you in her arms, she already knew the truth.

 

“I, mom..I….my body it was….I was dying, did die, for a few seconds,” you looked to Connor for confirmation, voice tight, and he nodded.  His hand was a comfort on your back.

 

“WHAT?!” your father shouted, only for your mother to purse her lips.

 

“What.  Happened,” she said again.  Your mother’s voice was cool and clipped, teetering on the edge of rage and the chasm of grief that she was struggling to withstand.  

 

“I…” you started wringing your hands in your apron, feeling for all the life of you like a child again; telling your parents the truth and knowing that retribution would be swift to follow.  “My body….my body it…” Connor stepped forward, pulling you just behind him, reading the tension in the room and acting on instinct to protect you. From what, he didn’t know.

 

“I had her consciousness transferred into a new body,” he stated.  There was a hint of plea to his voice, he couldn’t stand the thought of your parents abandoning you over his decision.  He had saved your life, you were still alive. They should be happy! “She was dying, her chances of survival were falling every second, it was the only way-”   
  
“YOU DID WHAT?” Your mother shouted, back stiff and eyes blazing.  

 

“Mom please!  Connor saved my life!” you begged.

 

“____...are you...are you an….”   
  
“An android?” you finished for your father, voice defeated.  “My body is not human….but I’m still me!” you hurried to say.  You father stared at you, realization clearing the confusion from his face upon seeing you, but your mother on the other hand, it was hard to read her expression.  Not so hard to read her voice.

 

“How am I supposed to believe you are my daughter?” she asked, voice biting.

 

“Mom-”   
  
“No!  Tell me!  You look like ____, but you aren’t really are you?  A machine made to look and sound like my daughter!” 

 

“....mom….” your voice broke.  Could you even blame her?

 

“Now, honey, wait a second,” your father protested.  Your mother walked up to you, skirting Connor, and grabbed your arm.  She turned it over to look at the scar on your forearm from a tumble off of the swings as a child, a perfect replica of the one you had on your skin, your flawlessly imperfect skin.

 

“You feel real,” she said, voice dropping.  “You sound just like her, but you aren’t.”   
  
“I am, mom please!  Listen to me! It’s still me!”  You grabbed ahold of her hand, and looked into her face pleadingly.  “It took me so long to accept this new body, I’ve been so afraid of what would happen when you found out.  I couldn’t bring myself to tell you, I couldn’t lose you!”

 

“Stop.”  Your mother pulled her hand free from yours and shook her head, there were tears in her eyes.  Grief for a daughter lost, not for the daughter before her.

 

“Mom-” you stopped, voice wavering.

 

“Mrs. ____, I’ve known about your daughter’s condition since the day it happened, she is still the same woman as she always has been,” Marissa stepped forward, crossing the store to stand beside you.  Behind her followed Robin, Trey, and Anastasia, though Ann stayed back, knowing her word as an android wouldn’t hold much merit here.

 

“Marissa...what?”  You asked, looking at her quickly, hope and confusion warring within you.

 

“I’m sorry, dear, Ms. Chloe told us so we wouldn’t be surprised, and so we could help you as you needed it,” she smiled at you warmly.  “Even if you never told us.” Looking from her to Connor he only shook his head.

 

“I didn’t know she knew,” he admitted quietly.

 

“We all did!” Trey said, flashing you a smile, Robin nodding beside him and then shrugging when you looked at them in turn.  “You’re the same as you’ve always been, more you than you if that’s possible...ok well maybe a little slower,” Trey teased. A laugh laced sob coughed out of you and you smiled weakly.  

 

“Trey!”  Marissa said.  He muttered an apology.

 

_ They knew, this whole time they knew? _ _   
_ _   
_ __ And I was so worried about them finding out.

 

_ But they KNEW! _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Those assholes, they knew and let me worry?! _ __   
  


Yet you felt no ill will towards them, just relief, and hope, and love.

 

You turned back to your mother, whose grief was melting to rage, and your hope withered in your chest.

 

“All of you knew, for months, for almost a year!?  And none of you thought to tell me MY DAUGHTER WAS DEAD?!” she spat out.  Your father walked up to her, offering a comforting arm around her shoulders, conflict on his face.

 

“She isn’t dead, she is right here!” Marissa said, gesturing to you.

 

“She-”   
  
“Honey, no,” your father said, quelling the tyrade before your mother could unleash it.

 

_ No. _

 

“Mom - dad?” you said weakly, trying to get their attention.  Your father looked at you, a flicker of pain underneath the conflict on his face tore at the last pieces holding your heart together.  Then he guided your mother out, her anger and grief turning to tears and she avoided looking at you, avoided your face, avoided your pleas and hands as you reached for her, begged her to look at you.

 

The door jingled behind them, too cheery for the heavy mood left inside the shop.  You watched your parents through the window, and as they left your sight so too did your resolve, as fragile as it had been.  

 

You broke, tears running down your face silently, body shaking.

 

Marissa was the first person to pull you close, hugging you like you had wished your parents would’ve.  She whispered comforting words to you, apologies and words of support until you calmed down enough to face everyone else still looking at you.  

 

“I’m so sorry,” Trey whispered when you looked at him, rubbing his hands awkwardly.  He wasn’t very good with tears, probably because he was prone to them himself in emotional situations if the glassiness of his eyes were to be any indication.  You couldn’t find words, couldn’t formulate anything to say that wasn’t self deprecating and hopeless. 

 

“Connor, take ____ home, would you?” Marissa asked, wiping tears from your face.  

 

“But-” you began to protest.   
  
“No buts, you need to rest, need peace.”   
  
“But-”   
  
“And as soon as you feel like being back here won’t bother you, come back.  You will always have a place here, you’re part of the family, no matter what parts you are made of.”  The words were meant to be a comfort, and they were, but the implication that your own family didn’t feel the same, even if it was true, hurt.  

 

_ At least I have a family here? _

 

_ It’s not the same. _

 

_ I have somewhere to go at least, people...humans who care about me. _

 

_ So then why does it hurt so much? _

 

You could only nod, taking off your apron and handing it to Trey.

 

“And don’t worry, when you’re back, we’ll answer all your questions.  Alright?” Marissa added. You nodded.

 

As you were leaving, Connor’s arm around you in support, you felt like you weren’t even in your own body, or that you were even awake.  As if this whole thing had been a bad dream.

 

“Does this mean you’ll stop avoiding my invitations to hang out after work now?” Trey called out before you could leave the shop.

 

“TREY!”  Ann scolded, though Robin laughed in amusement.  You looked at Trey for a moment, he looked so excited.  You sighed.

 

“Ok.”   
  
“YES!”

 

Connor ushered you out before anything more happened and into the back of a waiting taxi.

 

“Connor….”

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, they were at the door when I arrived.  If I had known I -”   
  
“I’m glad you were here, Connor,” you said softly, hollowly.  He looked at you, joining you in the back seat and pulling you close.  He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t even know what you were feeling only that it was pain, so much pain.  

 

He called the department silently, informing Hank of what happened as quickly as he could and asking him to cover for him so he could stay with you for the rest of the day.  Hank agreed without a second thought, though the anger Connor could easily hear before Hank ended the call abruptly after he told Connor to take care of you made the android wonder what trouble the lieutenant was going to get himself into.

 

The call didn’t take long of course, and there was still a bit of a drive back to Hank’s house where Connor was taking you.  Sumo was there, and Hank would be home as soon as he could, and you needed the company. Still, that didn’t ease the tension Connor felt as he watched you withdraw even while he held you in his arms.  

 

What was going through your head?  He couldn’t know….could he?

 

“____?” Connor asked softly.  You stirred, but didn’t look up at him.  “Will you let me help?” That got your attention.

 

“What?”

 

“Will you let me help?”  He didn’t know how else to ask, so he offered you his free hand, pulling the skin back from it.  He waited, unsure of what you would do, but knowing he had to try. You didn’t have to carry this alone, feel it alone, not if you didn’t want to.  He wanted to understand, but more importantly he wanted to be there for you.

 

A long moment passed and then you settled your hand in his, initiating the interface.  You wanted Connor to know what you were feeling, the pain, the heartbreak, the rejection.  Selfishly you wanted someone else to feel exactly what you were feeling, but more than that, if Connor knew what you were feeling, then maybe he would be able to give you the comfort you needed.  There was something powerful about receiving comfort from someone who knows exactly what you’re going through.

 

Connor didn’t react as he picked up on your thoughts, feeling no ill will towards you for them.  He was more concerned with the cold storm that ripped at you from within, that you tried to barely show him through the bridge.  

 

You didn’t notice the tears that fell to your head as your pain reached him and he buried his face in your hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for the chapterly shout out to my beta reader, [Em](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disillusionist9/pseuds/disillusionist9), without her this story wouldn't be what it is.
> 
> Check out her own Connor/Reader story, it's intense and the notes I've read for it so far only get more so! [The Parent Trap](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15842634/chapters/36894789#workskin)
> 
> And if you like my writing here, check out my series of oneshots/drabbles/and side fics for DBH [here](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1053845)
> 
> And my Simon/Reader slice of life fic, [Simon Says](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151798/chapters/37738964).


	18. Author Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Numb is currently in hiatus.

Hey guys, I'm going to officially put Numb on hiatus for a bit. I've hit a mental block and I feel bad just leaving you all waiting.

 

Don't worry, I'm still writing, and this will pick up again, but mentally I'm in an off place and trying to force the story won't do anyone any favors.

 

So hang in there guys, I'll be back as soon as I can.  I'll delete this and replace it with a proper chapter when I do.  Thank you guys for being so patient! <3


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